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THE 



EDUCATION OF MOTHERS. 



"It belongs, without doubt, to our sex, to form geometricians, tacticians, 
chemists, etc., but that which is generally called man, that is to say, man, 
as a moral being, if he has not been formed at his mother's knee, it will 
always be to him the greatest of misfortunes. Nothing can ever supply the 
want of this education. If especially the mother has made it her duty lo 
impress profoundly the divine characters on the heart of her child, we may 
be sure that the hand of vice can never entirely efface it." 

De Maistre — Soiries de St. Petersbourg. 



¥ 



THE 



EDUCATION OF MOTHERS: 



OR THE 



CIVILIZATION OF MANKIND 

BY ^ 

WOMEN. 

BY L. AIME-MARTIN. 

BEING THE WORK TO WHICH THE PRIZE OF THE FRENCH ACADEMV WAS AWARDED. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH 
BY EDWIN LEE, ESQ., 

AUTHOR OF "THE BATHS OF GERMANY," ETC. 

JFir.«t ^metfcan from tfje SlonUou IBtjftion, 

REVISED FROM THE FOURTH FRENCH EDITION. 



" Les hommes seront toujours ce qu'il plaira aux femmes. Si vous voulez qu'ils 
deviennent grands et vertueux, apprcnez aux femmes ce que c'cst que grandeur 
et vertu." — J. J. Rousseau, Emile, liv. 5. • 



PHILADELPHIA: 

LEA AND BLANC HARD, 
1843. 






\V 



Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1843j 

BY LEA AND BLANCHARD, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania, 



466655 



C. SHERMAN, PRINTER, 

19 St. James Street. 



CONTENTS. 



Preface - - - - - - - xvii 



Introduction 



I 



BOOK I. 



INFLUENCE OF WOMEN AND NECESSITY OF THEIR EDUCATION. 



XXI 



Chap. I. — Mission of Rousseau - - - - 33 

II. — Of the true governor of children - - 36 

m. — On the influence of women - - - 42 

IV. — Continuation of the same subject - - 46 

V. — Education of girls according to Fleury and Fenelon 51 

VI. — Of actual education and its insufficiency - - 56 

VII. — Social scale ----- 61 

VIII. — Education of the wife by the husband - - 62 

IX. — Of some modification necessary in the education of 

girls ----- 67 

X. — Education of mothers of families — general plan of 

the work - - - - - 69 
XI. — The grandmother - - - - 77 
XII. — Of the physical education of children and of its pro- 
gress - - - - - - 82 

XIII.— The father 84 

XIV. — Of public education and of a mixed education - 89 



^^ CONTENTS. 



^i 



BOOK II. 



EDUCATION OF THE SOUL— PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY OP THE 
MOTHER OF A FAMILY. 

Chap. I.— Study of the faculties of the soul - - 95 
II-^Know thyself - . . . - 99 
III. — Of instinct - . . . _ jqq 
I^- — Of intelligence in animals - . . 104 
V- — Of philosophical physiobg-y - . . 112 
VI.— Of the "Treatise on Sensations" - - - 113 
^W.— Of the true faculties of the soul - - 114 
VIII.— First line of demarcation - - - - 118 
IX.— Of the instinct of man and of the impossibility of de- 
fining the faculties of the soul - . 118 
^- — The moral sense— a faculty of the soul - - 119 
XL— Sense of the beautiful— a faculty of the soul - 121 
XII.— Sense of infinity— a faculty of the soul - - 121 
XIII.— Reason— a faculty of the soul - - - 123 
^^•■— Conscience— a faculty of the soul - - . 125 
XV.— Conclusions from the five preceding- chapters - 126 
XVL— Of the internal antagonism of man - - 127 
XVII.— The developement of the faculties of the soul leads 

us to the presence of God - - . 129 

XVIIL— Of physical and moral memory and will - - 130 

XIX.— Union of the moral and intellectual faculties - 134 

XX. — Of the true source of virtue - - . I35 

XXI. — Of moral liberty - - . . I35 

XXII. — Of the immortality of the soul ... 137 

XXIII. — Of the source of genius and virtue - - 140 

XXIV.— Developement of the great and beautiful by the 

study of great models - - . . 145 
XXV.— Of the harmony between the intellectual and moral 

faculties - - . _ . 149 

XXVI.— What constitutes intellect separated from the soul 152 

XXVII.— Of the danger of separating the faculties of the soul 154 

XXVIII. — Of the soul of nations - . _ . 155 

XXIX. — Progress - - - _ . 157 

XXX. — Of the education of the soul - - . 159 

XXXI.— Of the deviations of the sentiment of infinity - 163 

XXXII. — Developement of reason on earth - - - 166 



185 



CONTENTS. Vll 



BOOK III. 

IeDUCATION of the soul — MORAL AND POLITICAL STUDIES OF MOTHERS 

OP FAMILIES. 

Chap. I. — Of a great duty imposed upon mothers - 170 

11, — Of error and truth ----- 173 

III. — Search after truth in logical reasonings - 176 

IV. — Search after truth on the authority of the doctors - 179 

V. — Search after truth on the authority of the human 

race - - - - - 

VI, — Of divine reason ----- 188 

VII.— Of the Unity of God - - - - 189 

VIII. — Influence of a single truth upon the world - 190 

IX. — Of some attributes of the Divinity - - 194 

X. — Study of God in the works of nature - - 200 

XI. — Search after truth in the laws of nature - 208 

XII. — Of the sentiment of the Divinity - - - 211 

XIII. — Of the sociability of the human race - - 216 

XIV. — Of the love of country and of humanity - - 220 

XV.— Of the love of humanity - - - 222 

XVI.— Of love - 224 

XVII.— Of maternal love - - - - 229 

XVIII. — Of some other laws of nature - - - 232 
XIX. — No object contains within itself the first cause of 

its existence _ > - - 233 
XX. — Of the division of earthly duties between man and 

woman ------ 234 

XXI. — Of the civilization of countries by women - 237 

XXII. — Reaction equal to action - - - - 247 

XXIII. — Man always inclines to the great and beautifiil 252 
XXIV.— Of the perfectibility of the human race - 257 
XXV. — First appearance of political liberty on the earth - 262 
XXVI. — First prevalence of the idea of unity - - 264 
XXVII. — Of labour— a law which establishes the right of pro- 
perty ----- 265 

XXVIII.— Of life and death - - - - - 268 

XXIX. — Death not a punishment - - - 272 

XXX. — Application of the laws of nature to the laws of man 278 



^^^^ CONTENTS. 

XXXI.— Continuation of the same subject, and of America 

and Poland - - - . . 282 

XXXII. — Of war according to the laws of nature - 285 
XXXIII.— Appreciation of the laws of Crete, Sparta, Athens, 

and Rome, and the laws of nature - - 290 

XXXIV. — Of the hopes of the future - - . 293 

■^^XXV. — Of the study of God in the gospel - - - 297 

XXXVI. — Recapitulation ----- 300 



PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. 

" Train up a child in the way he should go ; and when he is old, he will not 
depart from it." PROV. 

" I think I may say that of all the men we meet with, nine parts out of ten, 
are what they are, good or evil, useful or not, by their education." 

Locke. 

The following admirable treatise, which has justly re- 
ceived the highest commendations in France and England, 
is destined, it is hoped, to meet a still more favourable re- 
ception in this country, where, amongst the intelligent 
classes of society, the subject of national education con- 
stantly excites such earnest attention. Originally addressed 
to the French people, it is full of allusions to the habits and 
modes of thought peculiar to that nation. Its principles 
are^nevertheless of universal application, and are equally 
sound and true when applied to the wants of the new, as 
to those of the old world. A few chapters of a purely 
local nature have been omitted, but care has been taken 
that nothing should be added to the text of the author. 

Enjoying as we do in this country, a happy exemption 
from many of the ancient prejudices, which former bar- 
barism has entailed upon other nations, it would seem that 

2 



XVllI PREFACE. 

in these free states, the great problem of human progress 
under free institutions is to be solved. Since these institutions 
have no solid basis but in the virtue and intelligence of the 
people, and in the cultivation of the moral sense as the guide 
to intellectual pov^er, there is, perhaps, no other people to 
whom the system proposed by our author is so well adapted 
as to ours. 

Liberty is ever in danger of degenerating into license, 
where the people, at their pleasure, make or unmake their 
own laws ; and if, in the old world, there are obstacles in the 
way of moral advancement, there are others, albeit of a 
different nature, in this country. We are the occupants of 
a vast continent, where each individual has ample room for 
his wildest schemes of selfish ambition — forests are, even 
yet, to be felled — the busy hammer of the artisan is still 
held in constant requisition to supply the simplest wants of 
civilized life, experiment succeeds experiment, in order that 
sound principles of government, suited to the new condition 
of things, may be discovered and tested — and our laws, 
changing from day to day, insensibly assume the character, 
for good or for evil, of those who frame them — all is unfinish- 
ed — every thing is unsettled — and each head and hand is 
overtasked in eager efforts after competence or aggran- 
dizement. If, in this confusion, sound morals be forgotten, 
if principles of expediency be substituted for truth, how is 
the current of misrule to be checked? What power is there 
to throw back the tide of vice, in its desolating progress 
towards the rising generation ? We have the Scriptures, 
the pulpit, and sometimes the press, but a power is wanted 
which shall apply more closely the principles they incul- 



PREFACE. 



XiX 



cate. In their eager struggle, the fathers of the land can 
scarce find time to think of the moral training of their 
offspring, much less to pursue any well digested system 
of education— consequently, by the mere force of cir- 
cumstances, this sacred trust must devolve upon the mo- 
thers, who, by their fitness of constitution, must have been 
designed by their Creator, from the beginning, to be the 
educators of mankind. But ignorance, pride, and preju- 
dice, in past times, by depriving women of the proper means 
of education, and by giving a false direction to their aims 
and pursuits, have, from age to age, produced their natural 
results, and it is to be feared that we have been but too 
wilUng imitators of a vicious example. If the mothers of our 
country be but faithful to themselves and to their children, 
we may then hope for the maintenance of our Hberties ; for 
they will train up good and faithful citizens, who, by the 
enactment of wise laws, will sustain the cause of order and 
of Christianity. 

M. Martin has most clearly pointed out the defects of 
the old systems of education, and delineated, in fascinating 
colours, the rule of maternal duty, whilst his arguments 
have a force and beauty which have never before been ap- 
plied to this subject. We earnestly entreat the serious 
attention of all to a work from which none can fail to draw 
an instructive and delightful lesson. 

Philadelphia, Oct. 30th, 1843. 



INTRODUCTION^ 

Some years since, I conceived the design of studying 
France, of making myself acquainted with her soil, her 
monuments, her cities, her hamlets, and that vast cincture 
of rivers, seas, and mountains, which extends from the 
Pyrenees to the Alps, and from the Mediterranean to the 
Atlantic. I anticipated much pleasure from this pursuit, nor 
were my hopes disappointed. Under the mildest climates, 
I found intelligent populations, and a singular abundance of 
every earthly good. I saw with admiration, innumerable 
vessels enter our ports, and deposit therein the riches of 
every quarter of the globe; these riches requiring many 
thousands of carriages for their transportation and distribu- 
tion throughout the country, in which they maintained an 
ever active prosperity. Here, the iron of Norway grows 
hot and soft under the forger's hammer ; there are displayed 
the fleecy tissues of the wools of Spain and Cachemire ; 
further on, the manufacturers spin, weave, and impress with 
the liveliest colours, the cotton of the Indies. Every where 
I found ancient cloisters and abbeys converted into work- 
shops, their deep vaults re-echoing to the songs of the arti- 
sans, and the unceasing din of the steam engine. It was 
delightful to witness such unbounded prosperity ; but that 
which excited my most lively surprise, was the immense 
impulsion communicated to the whole country by the train- 
ing of an insect. From the south to the north, from the 
frontiers of Italy, to the volcanic mountains of the Vivarais, 



XXll 1^^^ INTRODUCTION. 



a worm every where excites activity. At Avignon, at Lisle, 
at Vaucluse, its cocoons are reeled. In Normandy, the 
skilful fingers of the women attach these threads to light 
spindles, and throw a thousand graceful designs over the 
aerial meshes of our blondes. At St. Etienne, the same 
threads woven into ribands, are spread over the whole of 
Europe. At Nismes, stuffs are fabricated, which rustle and 
glitter like metals. At Lyons, my own beautiful country, 
they are spread out in heavy velvets, in gauzes, transparent 
as the air, in satins, in damask, in lampas. Finally, in 
Paris, silk rivals the pencil, and reproduces on sumptuous 
tapestries, the pictures of the greatest masters. But what 
are these master-pieces of art, these prodigies of industry, 
in comparison with the blessings which have been so boun- 
teously bestowed by nature ? Here is to be found every 
variety of cUmate, every species of cuhure; in the south, the 
olive, the citron, the orange ; in the north, the larch and fir, 
the two extremities of the botanic chain. The trees of 
Persia and the two Americas interweave their branches with 
the feudal elm and the oak of ancient Gaul ; the perfumed 
fruits of Asia, with the indigenous apple; the entire Flora 
of the East, with the humble violet, with our wreaths of blue 
bottles, our rustic bouquets of Easter daisies, and the mys- 
terious vervaine. Thus, France is covered with the produc- 
tions of the new world, and the treasures of the old. From 
the heights of its vine clad hills, rivers of wine incessantly 
flow into the cup of every nation, whilst over her vast plains 
harvests wave, like the billows of the ocean, under the 
winds which bend them, under the sun which ripens them. 
My heart bounded for joy at the sight of such prosperity. 
Beloved country! happy land! I exclaimed, thou hast all: 
wealth, intelligence, liberty. Is there upon the globe a 
spectacle comparable to that of thy glory 1 Thou hast cast 
off thy vices and superstitions as vile rags; no more useless 
monks, nor feudal rights, nor forced service, nor bondage. 



INTRODUCTION. XXlll 



nor castes, which despise each other, nor rival and jealous 
provinces ; within thy bosom I see but one people, and in 
this people but one family ! And in thus speaking, I seemed 
to hear every where, the hymn of gratitude, which was 
chaunted from the depths of my own heart. 

Alas ! I scarcely dare to write it ; in this land of promise, 
in the midst of families loaded with every blessing which 
can make life easy and happy, on a close examination, none 
were to be found, except little children, those gay crea- 
tures, careless as the birds of heaven, who were really 
happy. With this exception, the population, young and old, 
citizens and villagers, seemed to labour under an internal 
malady which left them no repose. From the midst of his 
fields, the peasant casts upon the towns an eye of contempt 
and envy ; from the depth of his parks and gardens, the rich 
man utters a cry of wretchedness and desolation ; the shop- 
keeper complains of the state of trade, the artisan of his 
wages, the banker of politics — all, of their social condition. 
The higher the position, the more bitter the complaints, the 
louder the murmurs ; the scepticism which had been hitherto 
confined to things of heaven, now extends itself to the 
things of earth ; the physician no longer has faith in medi- 
cine, the judge in laws, the priest in religion, the soldier in 
glory, the youth in love ; even kings have ceased to believe 
in royalty ; and the disgust which preys upon all, precipi- 
tates them into desperate schemes of ambition. 

Thus, every where is abundance, every where discontent: 
a gloomy picture of our beautiful France ! This industrious 
people, who had appeared to me as one great family, now more 
resembled a miserable being, who concealed hideous wounds 
under rich garments, and ennui, that profound void, under 
the semblance of a factitious gayety. Admiration ceased, and 
a compassion, at once active and fervid, possessed my whole 
being. I sought for the cause of the evil, and thought to 
have discovered it in the general want of knowledge and 



XXIV INTRODUCTION. 

leisure. To secure this leisure, what was needful? Machines 
must be invented, which might be substituted for human 
force. And for imparting instruction ? Methods must be in- 
vented, facilities obtained for instruction, schools multiplied, 
books and journals distributed. Young, then, and doubting 
nothing, I applied myself to the work. I had pursued a 
course of study preparatory to entering the Polytechnique 
school, where Louis XVIII. afterwards called me as profes- 
sor of history. I resumed these studies. I became gramma- 
rian, mechanician, chemist, and even economist. I possessed 
myself of all the new inventions, I improved and multiplied 
them ; I imagined France covered by rail-roads, and our 
fields cultivated without labour. I had machines for grub- 
bing the forests, and cultivating the soil. With a little char- 
coal and some drops of water, I lighted the cities, I gave 
coursers to our carriages, wings to our vessels, fingers to 
our mechanics. I made them spin, weave, forge, print, sail ; 
they produced by turns, like sentient beings, needles, paper, 
cannon, clothing, furniture — and all without interruption or 
fatigue ; whilst the steam laboured, man was to yield him- 
self to enjoyment and repose. 

Leisure being secured, it must be employed for the im- 
provement of the mind. Here I had only to follow the 
general movement; the most enlightened men were then 
occupied with popular instruction, and I associated myself 
with them. Thousands of schools were opened, and pri- 
mary instruction passed rapidly from city to village. But 
more was necessary than to teach the people to read ; un- 
less books were provided for them, nothing was done ; hence 
parish libraries were invented. 

It was about this time, that exhausted by incessant toil, 
my failing health gave cause for disquietude, and I began 
to fear that I was not destined to enjoy what I had so assi- 
duously cultivated. Must I then die, thought I, at the dawn 
of success, and relinquish the hope of seeing France happy 



INTRODUCTION. XXV 



and regenerate ? I sought my physician, a man of sense 
and probity, and explained to him at length the cause of my 
malady, my projects, my hopes, my fears, and my life 
exhausted by labour. He listened at first with an air of 
resignation, then suddenly exclaimed, " And where is all 
this to lead you?" at the same time casting upon me an 
oblique glance of raillery. " To advance the well-being of 
France," I replied. " Ah ! I understand ; but to succeed in 
this, you would require place, power, money, and an ele- 
vated position in the world." " But I anticipate none of 
these, doctor." " What ! have you no ambition ?' " None, 
doctor." . " Then tranquillize yourself, the evil is not so 
serious ; you only need quiet and country air." 

I went accordingly to establish myself at two leagues' 
distance from' Versailles, at the extremity of an immense 
plain, covered with golden harvests, of which there seemed 
neither limit nor shade. Here, the plain descends, and 
forms itself into two branches ; there, as if by enchantment, 
opens a succession of smiling valleys, whose green mea- 
dows are indefinitely prolonged between two banks, covered 
with rich culture, and crowned with chestnut trees. On 
the border of these woods, rises the pretty village of Cha- 
teaufort, with its rustic clock, its two tumuli, or Gaulish 
tombs, placed like two bastions under the picturesque ruins 
of the Chateau of Hugues-de-Cadavre, and in the midst of 
all this, is a simple dwelling, shady and rural, inhabited by 
a family of the good old times, where friendship offered 
me an asylum. 

I passed there two long years, occupied with my health, 
and above all, with my projects, associating myself in all 
the labours of the societies for the diffusion of useful know- 
ledge, and encouraging my friends in the pursuit of the 
great work of universal regeneration. 

We had not long to wait for results; but they were 
far from answering our anticipations. In proportion as 



XXVI INTRODUCTION. 

knowledge was extended, disquietude increased. Science 
irritated, instead of soothing : and the evil, I cannot deny it, 
pursued me into my very solitude. In this pleasant village, 
which already had a school, and where I had found the es- 
tablishments and improvements of the age, in this village, of 
which all the inhabitants could read, and whose knowledge 
and leisure should have multiplied their enjoyments, alas ! 
nothing was heard but murmurs and complaints. Some 
old men, few in number, regretted the seigneur, who once a 
year had received the farmer at his table; others, less 
proud, lamented the monks, who distributed soup at the con- 
vent-gate. The rich were offended to see in the valley the 
sumptuous parks of two or three bankers ; the poor envied 
the rich, and wished for a division of property, the abolition 
of imposts, and a republic. In fine, the youth just escaped 
from school, declared that science and good sense could 
only be dated from their own arrival in the world ; that the 
youth were the country, that the rest were worthy only of 
contempt, and this was, as it were, an epitome of all France. 

This, said I to myself, this is but a sad experience, and 
sufficient to give cause for reflection to the advocates for 
progress. I had discovered that in proportion as the ac- 
quisitions of the intellect were increased, morality became 
impoverished, and that in empty heads sophistry and envy 
spring up with thought. Thus I had either ill comprehended 
the situation of France, or mistaken the remedy. I was 
overwhelmed with mortification. 

In the first moments of disappointment, I could find no 
consolation but in violence ; I would have burned the books, 
destroyed the journals, annihilated industry, uprooted the 
fatal tree of science. I even went so far as to think that 
all which is called the people, that is to say, the human 
race, a few privileged beings excepted, is made to stagnate 
eternally in baseness and error ; that despots are right in 
terrifying this intractable animal ; that the monks are wise 



INTRODUCTION. XXVll 

in limiting the number of thinking beings ; that it is only by 
chaining him to ignorance and wretchedness that his evil 
passions can be subdued; that he must be subjugated Hke a 
brute, by hunger and fear, since he will not be happy like 
the angels, through light and intelligence. 

I was full of these thoughts, and like another Machiavel, 
was converting them into a system, when a singular cir- 
cumstance suddenly occurred to modify them. In the 
depth of the valley, on the left, stands an elegant mansion, 
so happily situated that the woods, the hills, the meadows 
and the hamlets which environ it, seem the natural accom- 
paniments of its park and gardens. Near this house, a little 
above the rivulet, is the village school, well shaded, of which 
the model is only to be found in the romances of Auguste La- 
fontaine : in front is a bridge, overlooked by a mill, erected 
merely to please the eye ; finally, a little chapel, where re- 
poses, under a modest marble, the lady of the place, who died 
in the flower of her age, but whose piety and beauty have 
left lasting remembrances. This group of trees, houses, and 
pavilions, and two Gothic turrets which rise above the 
woods, form an exquisite point of view in the midst of the 
most profound solitude ; for the road is furrowed only by 
the heavy carriages of the wood-cutters, and the feet of the 
flocks, which, towards the close of autumn, animate the 
valley. 

Every Sunday, warned by the chapel clock, I went to 
attend the service. It was a charming spectacle to see the 
women of the villages, in their simple costume, set forth at 
the same hour, and from all points in the valley, to cross 
the meadows — I say the women, for none but women attend 
church. It happened, nevertheless, that I sometimes had a 
companion. It was a venerable old man, whose ardent and 
ingenuous piety I would never cease to admire. In spite 
of his coarse vestments, and some appearances of penury, 
all about his person expressed tranquillity, and by an inex- 



XXVIU INTRODUCTION. 

pressible charm, the calm of his spirit, was gradually, as I 
contemplated him, transmitted into mine. My encounter 
with this man excited my curiosity ; I sought for informa- 
tion, and soon learned that he was supported by public 
charity. He had, I was told, at an advanced age, lost two 
brave boys, who would have been his support : one fell at 
Beresina, the other at Waterloo, and their mother soon fol- 
lowed them. He is now too old to work, but the proprietor 
of the chateau assists the old man a little, and the parish 
does the rest. Encouraged by these recitals, I approached 
him, at the same time offering some slight succour. " You 
have need of a warmer coat," I said, " the winter will be 
severe, and we must think of it in season." 

He raised his eyes towards me — his look was serene. 
"And why need I to think of it," said he in a tremulous 
voice, '* since God puts it into the hearts of good people?' 
Here is an example of true resignation, I thought to myself, 
I must inquire into his thoughts and occupations. "Can 
you read ?" said I. " Yes, sir— in my youth I received les- 
sons from the curate, an excellent man, who took pleasure 
in teaching the children." "And have you any books?" "Oh, 
at my age, we do not read, we pray!" ''You pray then 
often ?" " It is such a happiness to pray ! In the evenincr, 
sitting at the door of my poor cabin, which you see down 
there, under the chestnuts, I see the sun set, and I say, * Our 
Father !' " « And is that all your prayer ?" " Is there any 
thing which better fills the heart? 'Our Father!' Often 
after having pronounced these words, I pause, and in seeing 
the herds which return from the pastures to give us milk, 
and the sun which rises and sets on the valley, I bless the 
warmth which causes the grass to grow on our prairies, and 
the fruits in our fields. Oh, then I feel that my prayer is 
indeed true, and then I have the whole evening to think 
upon these words—' Our Father.' " " But in bad weather 
what do you do?" "Hook towards the heavens, and ob- 



r 



INTRODUCTION. XXIX 



serve the great clouds which traverse them, and which 
come, I know not where, driven by the winds, moving on 
without noise, and shedding rain here and there on the 
plains which grow green again, and give us bread, butter, 
and [loney, neither more nor less than if God himself had put 
them into our hands. Ah! 'Our Father, who art in heaven,* 
thou wilt live for ever. Men cannot destroy thee, as they 
have murdered my poor children." In thus speaking, the 
eyes of the old man filled with tears, his head sunk upon 
his breast, and I heard a low murmuring, as if he continued 
his prayer. " My poor Bertrand," he resumed, after a mo- 
ment's silence, "he was the youngest, and died at Waterloo 
shoiiiing Vive rEmpereurf Ah! if he had cried, 'Our Fa- 
ther, who art in heaven,' he might have lived still ! And my 
poor wife, who is gone to rejoin him— I should not have 
lost her ! But it was the will of our Father, and I bless 
Him," added he, drying his eyes, " for he has replaced my 
children by good people." "You are too solitary down 
there in the valley you ought to come nearer to the village." 
"Alas !" replied he, "I cannot leave my house, I have there 
seen my children born, and their mother died there; besides, 
as our curate says, he who can speak with God is never 
alone." " Are you content with your lot ?" " Ought I not 
to be ? God has never forsaken me." " Oh ! you deserve 
to be far happier," I exclaimed, " excellent old man ! Take 
this money, and pray for me, for me, subjected to fewer 
trials, and yet who cannot dare to call myself so happy as 
you are." 

" Ought we then to pray for money ?" said he, with emo- 
tion, as with a trembling hand, he put aside the gift which I 
wished to offer him. I felt that I had wounded him. " Par- 
don me," said I, "like worldly men, I have wished to make a 
selfish gift." In thus speaking, I seized his pious hands, 
which 1 pressed with a holy respect. I then withdrew, my 
heart filled with emotion, but as I turned away, he said to 



XXX INTRODUCTION. 

me, " Oh, you are a good man ! I will pray for you, and 
for your little children too, if you have any, who do not 
yet know how to pray !" 

It is related of the celebrated astronomer Tycho Brahe, 
that one night, in descending from his observatory, he found 
himself suddenly surrounded by a tumultuous crowd, who 
filled the public place. Having inquired the cause of so 
great an assemblage, they showed him in the constellation 
of the Cygnet, a brilliant star, which he, aided by the best 
telescopes, had not yet perceived. These are the chances 
which humble the learned, but which serve science. My 
situation was not unlike that of the great astronomer. A 
simple villager had just pointed out to me the star which I 
had sought in vain for so many years. 

Yes, I was mistaken : neither industry, nor science, nor 
machines, nor books, can constitute the happiness of a na- 
tion. Doubtless these are all useful in their places, and it 
should be the care of the legislator to propagate and mul- 
tiply them ; but if, content with having developed the intel- 
lect, the earthly part of man, he neglects to develope the 
spiritual nature, that divine essence of humanity, instead of 
a happy people, he will see himself surrounded by a mul- 
titude, restless in its unbridled passions, a multitude tor- 
mented by the double necessity of self-elevation and ac- 
quirement, and whom this sublime instinct serves only to 
torture. You have directed it towards the earth, and there 
it attaches itself, in the midst of the sensualities and volup- 
tuousness which exhaust it. Why do you not open the way 
to heaven ? The soul would then discover from whence it 
came, surprised at last to find the object of its desires, which 
hitherto had been mistaken, and of its ambition, which until 
now had been misguided. All that can give repose to the 
heart, all that can advance humanity, comes to us from on 
high. 

Would you have happiness ? do you wish for power 1 It 
is there that God has placed them. The most highly in- 



INTRODUCTION. XXXI 

structed people, if they are not also the most religious, can 
never be a sovereign people. 

Thus the example of the old man, happy in the midst of 
wretchedness, calm in his afflictions, had conducted me to 
the sources of good and evil. Our earthly passions — they 
are the tree of knowledge of good and evil — they materialize 
us, unless purified through our spiritual nature. 

I then felt why it is that the developementof the intellect 
alone, had increased the evil, instead of destroying it. What 
spectacle can there be more fearful, than that of a people, 
active and vigorous, struggling without hope, within the 
brazen walls of false glory, selfishness, and egotism ? This 
spectacle we exhibit to the world, because we are deficient 
in the religious principle, and the religious principle is defi- 
cient, because mothers have neglected to impress it upon 
the cradles of their children. 

This truth has become the subject of our meditations, 
and it has inspired the following work. We ask nothing 
of governments, or legislators, or professors — a people des- 
titute of religion may have schools, colleges, science — but 
nothing more. Let us then seek a power for all hours, for 
all moments, for all ages ; a power indestructible, indefati- 
gable, loving its employment, and which embraces the 
whole frame of society; let us address ourselves to the 
family ; let us demand of it succour for our families, for our 
country, for humanity. Man, blinded by his passions, treads 
upon the borders of an abyss, but he would not lead his 
child there. A mother, might covet fortune, might dream 
of power, for the child she cherishes, but how would she 
shudder, were it said to her, " This boy, the object of so 
much love, whom thou hast nourished at thy breast, whom 
thou coverest with caresses, will be an apologist for Robe- 
spierre, and will die on the scaffold !" Perish, for ever 
perish, the generation which has just been born, if in each 
family a voice be not raised in favour of the truth ! It is 



XXXll INTRODUCTION. 

truth that we want — truth, the only life of the soul, the only 
hope for the future, of the human race. 

But what is this voice whose sweet eloquence can pene- 
trate the very depths of our soul ? which can impress upon 
the hearts of our children those divine truths which no reso- 
lution can overturn? There exists in each family an un- 
known divinity, whose power is irresistible, whose kind- 
ness is inexhaustible, who lives but in our life, who knows 
no joy but our joy, nor happiness beyond our happiness, 
whose whole power is derived from love. It is that 
divinity whom we invoke : — I appeal to mothers for the 
moralization of the family and of the country. Their true 
mission is the religious developement of infancy and youth. 
It is upon maternal love that the future destiny of the human 
race depends : do not then reject this power. Although 
it may appear feeble, its action is invincible, and it is des- 
tined to produce the greatest revolution which the world 
has yet seen. The army of the Saviour of mankind was 
at first composed of a few women, and some poor fisher- 
men : to these He added little children — and it is with these 
fishermen, these women, and these little children, that He 
has conquered the world. 

Napoleon one day said to Madame Campan, " The old 
systems of education are good for nothing : what is wanting, 
in order to train up young people properly in France ?" 
" Mothers," said Madame Campan. This word struck the 
Emperor. " Right," said he, " therein lies a complete sys- 
tem of education, and it must be your endeavour, Madame, 
to form mothers who know how to educate their children." 

This profound word is the subject of our book. Ex- 
pecting nothing from the present generation, hoping nothing 
from our public education, we have said to ourselves in our 
turn, we, too, must endeavour to form mothers, who will 
know how to train up their children. 

A TEtang-le-ville, Feb. 8th, 1834. 



THE EDUCATION 



OF 



MOTHERS OF FAMILIES. 



BOOK I. 
CHAPTER I. 

MISSION OF ROUSSEAU. 



" J'qi toujours pense qu'on reformeroit le genre humain si Ton reformoit I'edu- 
cation de la jeunesse." 

Leibnitz, Lettres a Placcius. 

The age of Louis XV. was a bad age: a king without 
power, a nobility without dignity, a clergy without virtue ; 
the loose manners of the regency naixed with the gothic pre- 
judices of the nniddle ages ; all the feudal race in embroidered 
coats ; princes, dukes, marquises, gentlemen, making an art 
of corruption, and a merit of debauchery ; noble by the grace 
of God, philosophers by the grace of Diderot ; empty, foolish 
creatures, aspiring to profound thoughts, and taking refuge 
in incredulity on the faith of the facetiae of Voltaire or of a 
tale of Voisenon ! Such was the age in which Rousseau 
appeared. 

Below this gilded troop there was a people which looked 
on — they had been forgotten there in the street ; and not- 
withstanding they looked on, amused with this grand spec- 
tacle, the actors of which, stripped all at once of their coat 
of mail, and of their feudal appurtenances, began to appear 
a less pure and formidable race. Bowed down beneath the 

3 



^^ MISSION OF ROUSSEAU. 

weight of their long servitude, the people had remained 
barbarous in the midst of civilization, ignorant in the midst 
ot science, miserable in the midst of riches; they had been 
mstructed neither in their rights nor in their duties, and they 
suddenly found themselves face to face with their masters, 
like a hon before its prey, free in his strength and in his 
ferocity. 

w^"^ ^^^^^ ^'^ power oppose to these imminent perils? 
Where was the legislation which should protect the citizens, 
and the evangelical worship which was to reform the man- 
ners? Power apprehended nothing, it went on as before, 
without thinking of the future; employing the Bastile to 
control the nobility, the Sorbonne to control the philoso- 
phers, and having neither strength to modify laws, which 
had remained barbarous amidst the pro£Tress of the age, nor 
yet to awaken the clergy, stupidly occupied with the mira- 
cles of St. Paris in the company of the encyclopedists. 

One man, one man alone, at this juncture, thought of the 
future destinies of the country ; and this man was not even 
a Frenchman, he was the son of a poor watchmaker of 
Geneva named Rousseau. Struck with the universal dis- 
organization, he conceived one of those lucid ideas to which 
are attached, by imperceptible threads, the destinies of hu- 
manity. His aim was to give citizens to the country, while 
he appeared only to think of giving mothers to our children ! 
ihe mother's milk shall be the milk of liberty ! Concealing 
the regeneration of France beneath the veil of an isolated 
education, he removes his pupil from the falsehoods of public 
education : in this plan, so vast, in which one saw merely 
the child and its tutor, the genius of Rousseau comprised all 
that might constitute a great people; he knew that ideas of 
individual liberty do not fail speedily to become ideas of 
national liberty. While educating a man, he thought of 
forming a nation. 

And what would be the means of this great revolution? 
Amidst so much vileness, who would dare ro animate souls 
with the sacred love of truth? There is in the heart of 
woman a something of republicanism which incites her to 
heroism and to self-sacrifice; and it is there that Rousseau 
looks for support: it is there, also, that he finds the power. 
He does not come as a severe moralist to impose sad and 
importunate duties: it is a family ^/e which he convocates; 



MISSION OF ROUSSEAU. 35 

it is a mother which he presents to the adoration of the 
world, seated near the cradle, a beautiful child on her 
bosom, her countenance beaming with joy beneath the 
tender looks of her husband. Delightful picture, which re- 
vealed to woman a divine power, that of rendering us happy 
by virtue. Never did the human voice fulfil a more holy 
mission; at the voice of Rousseau each woman again be- 
comes a mother, each mother again becomes a wife, each 
child will be a citizen. 

Thus was the family to be regenerated, and by means of 
the family the nation. Thus woman worked, without 
knowing it, a universal regeneration. Rousseau had en- 
listed them on his side, without placing them in his confi- 
dence ; and while Europe thought that it only owed to him 
the happiness of the children, and the virtue of the mothers, 
he had laid the foundation of the liberty of the human race. 

Such was the influence of Rousseau on woman, and later 
on the nation. All that he exacted from women he ob- 
tained ; they were wives and rrjothers. One step more, and 
by entrusting them with the moral education, as much as 
he had entrusted them with the physical education, of their 
children, he would have made of maternal love the most 
powerful promoter of the interests of humanity. Unfortu- 
nately he stopped short. He who, speaking of women, had 
so well observed, " What great things might be done with 
this lever," dared not propose to them any thing great; he 
only left to their tenderness the management of early child- 
hood, and thought their mission accomplished. 

Something, then, remains to be done after Rousseau ; the 
impulsion which he gave to moral studies wanted force, be- 
cause it wanted an agent which we must seek, not among 
the learned and philosophers, but in the very bosom of the 
family. Men only educate those who have gold ; one may 
buy a tutor. Nature is more munificent, she gives one to 
each child. Leave, then, the child under the protection of 
its mother; it is not without design that Nature has con- 
fided it at its birth to the only love which is always faithful, 
to the only devotedness which terminates but with life. 



36 OP THE TRUE GOVERNOR 



CHAPTER 11. 

OF THE TRUE GOVERNOR OF CHILDREN. 

" Dans nos societes modemes les meres nous donnent nos premiers sentimens 
et nos premieres idees; c'est la mere qui reconnoit le caractere et le genie de son 
enfant, applaudit a sa vocation, le soulient centre le mecontentement paternel, le 
console, le fbrtifie, et enfin le livre a la societe," 

Lerminier, Philosophie du Droit. 

Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not de- 
part from it. 

Proverbs. 

Let us then follow the laws of nature : she consigns us, 
at our birth, neither to the care of a pedagogue, nor to the 
tutelage of a philosopher, but entrusts us to the love and the 
caresses of a young mother. She calls around our cradle 
the most graceful forms, the most harmonious sounds, — for 
the sweet voice of woman becomes still sweeter for child- 
hood ; in fine, all that is delightful on earth nature bestows 
upon us in our early age ; the bosom of a mother on which 
to repose, her sweet looks to guide, and her tenderness to 
instruct us. 

The governor par excellence is the being to whom our 
inclinations lead us; the pupil must understand the master; 
in their relations all should be tenderness, suitableness and 
conformity, and thus it is that nature adapts the mother to 
the child. See with what care she brincrs the two beino-s 
together, by the combination of beauty, grace, youth, 
sprightliness of disposition, and, above all, by the heart. 
Her patience replies to curiosity, and her sweetness to petu- 
lance ; the ignorance of the one is never cast down by the 
pedantry of the other; one would say that the reason of 
both grows at the same time, so much is the superiority of 
the mother softened down by love; and then, the frivolity, 
the love for pleasure, the taste for the marvellous, which 
are blamed with so little reflection in women, is an addi- 
tional link between the mother and child. Every thing 
draws them near to each other; their likings and their 
contrasts ; and in the distribution which nature has made 
of gentleness, patience, and vigilance, she points out to us 



OF CHILDREN. 37 

strongly and affectionately the being to whom she is desi- 
rous of confiding our weakness. In general, it is not suffi- 
ciently observed that children only understand what they 
see, and comprehend only what they feel — sentiment in 
them always precedes intelligence ; therefore, to those who 
teach them to see, who awaken their tenderness, belong all 
the happiest influences. Virtue is not merely taught, it is 
inspired : the talent of women consists especially in the 
circumstance, that what they desire, they make us love — a 
delightful means of making us value it. 

But a prince, a king, what can he learn from a woman? 
That which St. Louis learned from Blanche; Louis XII. 
from Marie de Cleves ; Henry IV. from Jeanne d'Albret. 
Out of sixty-nine monarchs who have worn the crown of 
France, only three have loved the people; and, remarkable 
circumstance, all three were brought up by their mothers. 
You will say that the high thoughts of politics require more 
learned interpreters; that a Bossuet is not too much to in- 
struct the great dauphin, and a Montausier to direct him. 
Be it so, if you can always find a Bossuet or a Montausier ; 
and yet I am fearful of an education, which could inspire 
the prodigious " Discours sur Vliistoire universelle ;" it seems 
to me that this sublime language would be likely to over- 
power the brain of so frail a creature ; and in reading these 
pages, which dazzle me and absorb my attention, I find 
myself regretting, for this child, the stories of Mademoiselle 
Bonne and Lady Sensee. Do you not think that after 
having been bowed down during several hours beneath the 
instructions of so powerful an intellect, the dauphin would 
not feel the desire to recreate himself with his valets? 

A preceptor may descend without effort to the level of 
his pupil ; he may form a religious heart, an honest man, a 
good citizen, and he will have done his all. And what is 
there in this mission which a woman would not be able to 
do ? Who better than a mother can teach us to prefer 
honour to fortune, to cherish our fellow-creatures, to relieve 
the unfortunate, to elevate our souls to the source of the 
beautiful and the infinite? An ordinary preceptor counsels 
and moralizes; that which he offers to our memory, a mother 
ingrafts in our hearts : she makes us love that which he can 
at most but make us believe, and it is by love that she leads 
us to virtue. 



38 OF THE TRUE GOVERNOR 

Struck by the little care generally bestowed upon the 
education of women, and by the irresistible influence which 
they exert, the celebrated Sheridan conceived the idea of 
establishing for them in England a national education. He 
transmitted his plan to the queen, and invited her to place 
herself at the head of the institution. " Women govern us," 
said he, " let us try to render them perfect ; the more they 
are enlightened, so much the more so shall we be. On the 
cultivation of the mind of women depends the wisdom of 
men. It is by woman that nature ivrites on the heart of 
manJ' 

This, as may be perceived, was a great idea, and it would 
be difficult to estimate the influence which its execution 
would have exerted on Old England. In it were comprised 
a moral and political revolution, an improved government, 
the abolition of slavery, humanity in Ireland, civilization in 
the Indies, morality by the side of industry, &c. ; for woman 
thus instructed will never engrave on the heart of man any 
thing but the dictates of evangelical charity, and of the 
noblest sacrifices to the interests of humanity. 

Our pretensions, however, do not rise so high. We neither 
reckon upon kings, queens, nor universities, to assist the 
country, but solely upon maternal influence — an influence 
which is exerted on the heart, which through the heart may 
direct the mind, and which, in order to save and regenerate 
the world, only requires to be properly directed. 

This influence exists every where, — it every where deter- 
mines our sentiments, our opinions, our tastes, — it every 
where decides our fate. " The future destiny of a child," 
said Napoleon, " is always the work of its mother ;" and the 
great man took pleasure in repeating, that it was owing to 
his mother that he had raised himself so high. A reference 
to history will justify these words; and without supporting 
our argument by the memorable examples of Charles IX. 
and of Henry IV., of the pupil of Catherine, and that of 
Jeanne d'Albret, we may ask ; was not Louis XIII. like his 
mother, weak, ungrateful, and unhappy? Always in con- 
tradiction, and yet always submissive? Do you not recog- 
nise in Louis XIV. the passions of a Spanish woman, the 
gallantry at the same time sensual and romantic, the terrors 
of the bigot, the pride of the despot, who requires the same 
prostration before the throne as before the altar ? It has 



I 



OP CHILDREN. 39 

been said, and I believe it, that the woman who gave birth 
to the two Corneilles possessed a great soul, an elevated 
mind, and a dignified manner; that she resembled the mother 
of the Gracchi ; that these were two women of the same 
mould. On the other hand, the mother of the young Arouet, • 
spirituelle, jesting, coquettish, and of loose manners, im- 
pressed the genius of her son with all her peculiarities ; she 
excited in his soul the fire which, while it gave light, con- 
sumed; which produced so many chefs-d'oeuvre, and dis- 
honoured itself by so many immoral tales. 

Twenty volumes would not suffice to collect all the pro- 
minent examples of maternal influence. A child of the 
people, Kant, loved to repeat that he owed every thing to 
the pious care of his mother. This good woman, though 
herself without instruction, had nevertheless instructed him 
in the greatest of all sciences — that of morality and virtue. 
In her walks with her son, she explained to him, with the 
aid of good sense alone, what she knew of the wonders of 
nature, and she thus inspired him with the love of God his 
Creator. " I shall never forget," said Kant, in his old age, 
" that it is she who caused to fructify the good which is in 
my soul." 

Not less fortunate than Kant was our illustrious Cuvier, 
w^ho received from his mother the first lessons by which his 
genius was developed : with an instinct peculiarly maternal, 
she directed his tastes towards the study of nature. 

" I used to draw under her superintendence," says Cuvier, 
in the MS. memoirs which he has left to his family, " and I 
read aloud books of history and general literature. It is 
thus that she developed in me that love of reading, and that 
curiosity for all things, which were the spring of my life." 
This great man attributed to his mother all the pleasure of 
his studies and the glory of his discoveries. 

But the most striking example of this beneficent or fatal 
influence may be found in the lives of two of the greatest 
poets of the present age. To the one, fate had given a 
mother, foolish, mocking, full of caprice and pride, whose 
narrow mind was only expanded by vanity and hatred : a 
mother who pitilessly made a jest of the natural infirmity 
of her child ; who alternately irritated and caressed him, 
and at last despised and cursed him. These corrosive pas- 
sions of the woman became profoundly ingrafted in the 



40 OF THE TRUE GOVERNOR 

heart of the young man ; hatred and pride, anger and disdain, 
boiled within his breast, and Hke the burning lava of a vol- 
cano, suddenly overspread the vs^orld with the torrents of a 
malevolent harmony. 

Upon the other poet beneficent fate had bestowed a mother, 
tender without weakness, and pious without formality, — one 
of those rare mothers which exist to serve as a model. This 
woman, young, beautiful, and enlightened, shed over her 
son all the light of love ; the virtues with which she inspired 
him, the prayer which she taught him, addressed themselves 
not merely to his intellect, but by becoming implanted in his 
soul, elicited divine sounds — a harmony which ascends unto 
God. Thus surrounded from the cradle with examples of 
the most touching piety, the child walked in the ways of the 
Lord under the tuition of his mother; his genius resembled 
incense, the perfumes of which are diffused over the earth, 
but which only burns for heaven. 

Come then, now, with the morality of a college or the 
philosophy of a pedant, and modify these maternal influ- 
ences; try to re-form Byron and Lamartine ; you will always 
arrive too late ; the vessel is soaked through ; the cloth has 
acquired its fold ;* and the passions of our mothers are be- 
come to us a second nature. Here is, however, a power, 
always acting beneath our eyes, an invariable love, a creative 
will, (the only one, perhaps, on earth which seeks but for 
our happiness,) left without direction since the beginning of 
the world, for want of enlightenment and education. 

In conclusion ; What is the child to the preceptor? It is 
an ignorant being to be instructed. What is the child to the 
mother? It is a soul which requires to be formed. Good 
teachers make good scholars, but it is only mothers ihat 
form men ; this constitutes all the difference of their mission; 
it follows that the care of educating the child belongs alto- 
gether to the mother, and that if it has been usurped by 
men, it is because education has been confounded with in- 
struction — things essentially different, and between which 
it is important to make the distinction, for instruction may 
be interrupted, and pass without danger into other hands; 
but education should be continued by the same person ; 

* " Certain age accompli 
Le vase est irabib^, I'etoffe a pris son pli." 

La Fontaine. 



OP CHILDREN. 41 

when it is interrupted it ceases, and whoever gives it up 
after having began it, will see his child fall into the tortuous 
ways of error, or, what is more deplorable, into an indif- 
ference to truth. 

Let us, then, not seek out of the family for the governor 
of our children ; the one which nature presents to us will 
relieve us from the necessity of inquiring further, and that 
one we shall every where find; in the cottage of the poor, 
as in the palace of the rich ; every where endowed with 
the same perfection, and ready to make the same sacrifices. 
Young mothers, young wives, let not the stern title of gover- 
nor alarm your weakness ; I would not impose upon you 
pedantic studies or austere duties : it is to happiness that I 
wish to lead you. I come to reveal to you your rights, 
your power, your sovereignty ; it is inviting you to roam 
through the happy paths of virtue and love that I prostrate 
myself at your feet, and that I ask of you the peace of the 
world, the order of families, the glory of your children, and 
the happiness of the human race. 

Some inattentive minds will perhaps accuse me of wish- 
ing to resuscitate learned women; let them not be alarmed, 
l-the genitive and the dative, as Montaigne says, are not the 
^object of this book. Leaving, then, aside the mere works 
of the memory, these mechanical attributes of teachers, I 
will call upon w^omen to fulfil their mission, by taking charge 
of the superior education which comprises the developement 
of the soul. I will trace out its elements, I will lay down 
its principles, I will unfold its science, so that the road once 
opened, it may be easy for them to penetrate into it without 
any other study than that of their own hearts. But before 
entering into it myself, I must examine this power which I 
invoke. We know women as mothers, let us try to know 
them as lovers and as wives. In the age which has just 
passed away, they were nothing more than that, and yet 
they have reigned : in the age which is approaching, they 
will be something more, they will be citizens ; and this title, 
which requires more enlightenment and reflection, promises 
to them a new empire. 



42 ON THE INFLUENCE OP WOMEN. 



CHAPTER III. 

ON THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN — CIVILIZATION EXISTS ONLY 

BY MARRIAGE. 

" L'ignorance ou les femmes sont de leurs devoirs, Tabus qu'elles font de leur 
puissance, leur font perdre le plus beau et le plus precieux de leurs a\antages, 
celui d'etre utiles." 

Madame Bernier, Discours sur V Education des Femmes. 

Whatever be the customs or the laws of a country, it is 
the women who give the direction to its manners. Whether 
free or subject, they reign because they derive their power 
from our passions. But this influence is more or less salu- 
tary according to the degree of estimation in which they 
are held ; be they our idols or our companions, courtesans, 
slaves, or beasts of burthen, the re-action will be complete 
— they will make us what they themselves are. It appears 
as if nature attached our intelligence to their dignity, just as 
we attach our happiness to their virtue. Here then is a 
law of eternal justice; man cannot debase women without 
becoming himself degraded ; he cannot elevate them with- 
out becoming better. Let us cast our eyes over the earth, 
and observe the two great divisions of the human race — the 
East and the West; one half of the old world continues 
without improvement, and without ideas, beneath the weight 
of a barbarous civilization; there the women are slaves ; the 
other half progresses towards equality and enlightenment, 
and we there see women free and honoured. 

A few months ago* was published in the papers the ac- 
count of an English physician, whom curiosity had led to 
the East. Being accidentally introduced into the slave- 
market, he perceived a score of Greek women, half naked, 
lying on the ground, in expectation of a purchaser. One 
of them had attracted the attention of an old Turk ; the 
barbarian examined her minutely as one would examine a 
horse, while during his inspection the merchant praised 
the beauty of her eyes, the elegance of her figure, and 

* The first edition was published soon after the Greek revolution. 



\ 



ON THE INFLUENCE OP WOMEN. 43" 



Other minor perfections; he protested that the poor girl 
was not nnore than thirteen years of age, that she was a 
virorin, and neither dreamed nor snored in the night. In 
short, after a close examination, and some bargammg about 
the price, she was sold, body and soul, for about sixty pounds. 
The soul, it is true, was but little considered in the bargain. 
The unhappy creature, half-fainting in the arms of her mo- 
ther, (for this horrid compact was made beneath the eyes 
of her mother,) implored with piercing cries the assistance 
of her sorrowing companions. But in this barbarous land 
all hearts were closed ; the laws render one insensible to 
the evils which they sanction. The affair was concluded, 
and the young girl was delivered to her master. Thus 
vanished for her, thus must vanish for all women in this 
part of the world, that delightful futurity of love and hap- 
piness which nature has prepared for them. Who would 
believe it ? this infernal transaction took place in Europe in 
1829, at the distance of six hundred leagues from Paris and 
London, the two capitals of the human race ; and at the 
present moment it is the living history of two-thirds of the 
inhabitants of the globe. What monsters would be pro- 
duced by such an union ! What kind of progeny will arise 
from this combination of vileness, hatred and misfortune! 
Worshipper of Mahomet, is this one of the companions of 
thy life, one of the mothers of thy children '( Thou requirest 
from her delights for thyself and an affectionate disposition 
for thy son ! An affectionate disposition ! Nothing can be 
expected from this sorrowing creature but thy own degra- 
dation and that of thy posterity. 

Nature has so willed it, that true love, the most exclusive 
of all the feelings, should be the only possible foundation of 
civilization. This sentiment invites all men to a simple life, 
exempt at the same time from idleness, from effeminacy, and 
from brutal passions. All is harmony, all happiness, in the 
intimate link which unites two young married persons. The 
man, happy in the society of his wife, finds his faculties in- 
crease with his duties : he attends to out-door avocations, 
takes his part in the burdens of a citizen, cultivates his lands, 
or is usefully occupied in the town. The woman, more re- 
tiring, presides over the domestic arrangements. At home 
she influences her husband ; diffuses joy in the midst of 
order and abundance ; both see themselves reflected in the 



44 ON THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN. 

children seated at their table, who promise by the force of 
example to perpetuate their virtues. 

Contrast with this picture of the European family that of 
an Eastern one; the former is based upon equality and love; 
the latter, upon polygamy and slavery, which leave to love 
its brutal fury, but which deprive it of its sweet sympathy 
and its divine illusions. A man may shut himself up with 
a number of women, but it is impossible that he can love 
several. See him, then, reduced, amidst a crowd of young 
beauties, to the saddest of all conditions — that of possessing 
without loving, and without being beloved. Inebriated with 
the coarsest pleasures, without family in the midst of his 
slaves, without affection in the midst of his children, he im- 
prisons his companions, he mutilates their keepers, and 
makes his house a place of punishment, crime, and prosti- 
tution. And, after all, does this animal life yield him happi- 
ness? No; his senses become blunted, his mind becomes 
enervated, and he vainly pursues unto the brink of the tomb 
the sensual delights which, while they excite him, elude his 
grasp. 

In order properly to estimate the wretchedness of a simi- 
lar degradation, we may allude to the recent history of a 
French officer called Seve, who has lately become cele- 
brated in the East under the name of Soliman-Bey. Being 
obliged to quit the service at the period of the fall of Na- 
poleon, Seve offered his services to the Pacha of Egypt, 
who, on account of his military talents, employed him and 
made his fortune, without requiring him to change his reli- 
gion. In 1826, Seve was living in a most luxurious style; 
he had in his harem the most beautiful Greek and Egyptian 
slaves; but, says the author to whom we are indebted for 
this account, amidst all these delights his heart was a void, 
and he sighed for a companion worthy of him. " Send me," 
said he, "a French, an English, or an Italian woman, it 
matters not which, I promise you to marry her, and will 
send away this troop of creatures, without soul and without 
ideas." Then added he with fervour, *' Nothing more is re- 
quired to complete my happiness than a true female friend, 
whose heart and mind would embellish my solitude. This 
treasure would enable me to enjoy all the rest." On read- 
ing this narrative, one cannot help admiring, how, when 
social institutions have not deeply depraved the heart of 



ON THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN. 45 

man, a sense of natural rectitude forcibly brings him back 
to order, that is to say, to virtue. 

Polygamy is a purely animal state — it gives us only slaves; 
marriage gives us a companion ; — the former establishes de- 
bauchery in the house of the man, the latter for ever banishes 
it, and sanctifies the house of the citizen. 

From these facts, which comprise in some degree the 
history of the East, it may be inferred that civilization is 
only possible by means of marriage, because in marriage 
alone women are called upon to exert their intellectual and 
moral power. European society has entirely arisen from 
the power of the wife over the husband, and that of the 
mother over the child. 

At the beginning of the world God created only one man 
and one woman, and ever since the two sexes have been 
born in about equal numbers. Thus each man ought to have 
his companion — it is the law of nature; all the rest is only 
barbarity and corruption. 

In order to convince you that such is the law of nature, 
allow yourself to be charmed by the most delightful of all 
scenes! Observe these two young lovers, experiencing the 
same transports, — they have but one thought, that of living 
and dying together. AH that is divine upon earth animates 
their bosoms. Do you not feel that they are the two halves 
of the same being which have again found each other? and 
do you not perceive how, in proportion as the two souls 
form one, its sentiments are enlarged and its joys purified? 
Oh, how easy the practice of virtue appears to love! He 
who knows how to love, is strong, is just, is chaste, can un-~ 
dertake every thing, and suffer every thing. The soul of 
true lovers is like a holy temple, in which incense inces- 
santly burns, in which every voice speaks of God, and 
every hope is of immortality. 

In his paternal goodness, the Creator has placed, at the 
brightest epoch in the lives of the dwellers upon the earth, 
happiness by the side of virtue. 

Is it not a wonderful thing, that the woman who has not 
the power of resisting him whom she loves, can yet find in 
so weak a soul all the energy, all the heroism, necessary to 
sacrifice her life for him ? 

It is because woman is made to love, and that in her 



46 ON THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN. 

weaknesses, as in her sacrifices, it is always love which 
triumphs. 

Far, then, from interdicting love to young persons, I 
would bring them up for this sentiment, I would make it the 
end and the reward of virtue: my pupils should know that 
the quaHties of the soul can alone render us worthy to love 
and be loved; that love is but a tendency towards the beau- 
tiful ; that its dreams are but a revelation of the infinite ; 
that in attaching itself to perfections too frequently ideal, 
the soul points out to us the only objects which it can eter- 
nally love ; in a word, that it is always the moral beauties 
which move us, even in the contemplation of physical beauty; 
and to corroborate this idea, I would point out the most 
ordinary physiognomies becoming beautiful under the inspi- 
ration of a generous sentiment ; and on the other hand, to 
the most perfect physiognomies becoming degraded beneath 
the impression of a low and malevolent passion ; and I 
would conclude, that, for women the most becoming co- 
quetry would be to embellish the soul sooner than the body, 
because it is the soul which renders all perfect. 



CHAPTER IV. 

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT. 

WOMEN IN BECOMING THE COMPANIONS OF MEN SOFTEN THEIR 

BARBARITY. 

Would you become acquainted with the political and 
moral condition of a people? ask what is the position occu- 
pied by the women. Between the sweetness of conjugal 
love, and the degradation of the harem, there is the same 
distance as between civilization and the savage state. Be- 
tween the society in the time of Louis XIV. and that under 
Louis XV., there is the same difference as between their 
two mistresses, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, and Madame 
Dubarry. We might, doubtless, adduce examples of mo- 
rality superior to those of the time of Louis XIV., but what 
advantage should we derive by so doing? they are out of 
our reach ; at Sparta, where women formed heroes because 
they were citizens ; at Rome, where temples were raised 



ON THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN. 47 

to the sanctity of marriage, and where the violated chastity 
of a woman was considered so momentous an event, that it 
sufficed to change the fate of the kingdom. The influence 
of women is extended over the whole of our lives ; a mis- 
tress, a wife, a mother — three magic words which comprise 
the sum of human felicity. It is the reign of beauty, of 
love, and of reason ; it is always a reign. A man consults 
with his wife, he obeys his mother, he obeys her long after 
she has ceased to live, and the ideas which he has derived 
from her, become principles which are frequently more 
powerful than his passions. 

On the maternal bosom the mind of nations reposes ; their 
manners, prejudices, and virtues — in a word, the civiliza- 
tion of the human race all depend upon maternal influence. 

The reality of the power is admitted, but the objection is 
stated, that it is only exercised in the family circle, as if the 
aggregate of families did not constitute a nation ! Do we 
not perceive that the thoughts which occupy the woman at 
home, are carried into public assemblies by the man? It is 
there that he realizes by strength, that with which he was 
inspired by caresses, or which was insinuated by submis- 
sion. You desire to restrict women to the mere manage- 
ment of their houses — you would only instruct them for that 
purpose; but you do not reflect that it is from the house of 
each citizen that the errors and the prejudices which pre- 
vail in the world, emanate. 

There is another influence less durable, but more power- 
ful, from which none can escape. It is at the age of adole- 
scence, when life appears to us a series of pleasure, of 
which the perspective is prolonged into futurity, that the 
revolution is all at once effected which changes the destiny 
of the man. A celestial image comes to occupy all his 
thoughts ; it, at the same time, disturbs and delights him. 
The friend of his early choice; the tenderness of his mo- 
ther, are no longer enough for him: he requires a more in- 
timate and exclusive affection, the half of himself; the com- 
panion which God has created for him ; the angel which 
he should solely and eternally love : he desires the happi- 
ness of the elect. This other half of himself: at last he 
discovers it, and all his desires become concentrated in this 
one object. But, yesterday his will was inflexible as iron, 
to-day he has neither will nor caprice ; a something heroical 



48 ON THE INFLUENCE OP WOMEN. 

is awakened in his heart by the side of love, and life is only 
dear to him because he can devote it to her. Would vou 
see the charmer who produces all this change ? it is that 
young girl, whose looks are expressive of innocence ! Sur- 
prised at the sentiment which she inspires, pensive and 
silent, she looks down and blushes ; but while blushing, she 
is aware of her conquest, and secures it. And who, then, 
has revealed to her a secret which her lover would conceal 
from the whole world? Who but her lover himself: the 
silence, the respect, the submission, the timid adoration 
which renders him immovable and fearful. And this is a 
universal language ; beneath the torrid zone, as well as near 
the icebergs of the north, innocence understands this lan- 
guage — understands ii without having learnt it, for it is a 
general law of nature, that at the time when beauty is per- 
fected it should become mistress of a will which is not in 
itself. 

Thus, this young girl, who scarcely yet knows herself, 
who till this day has only known how to obey without re- 
fleeting; to whom nothing has been taught of what is going 
on in the world ; this young girl, without knowledge, with- 
out experience, becomes all at once powerful and sovereign. 
She disposes of the life and the honour of a man, guided by 
his passion ; she wishes, and her wishes are fulfilled ; she 
wills, and is directly obeyed. Her childish will may give 
a hero to his country, or an assassin to the family, ac- 
cording to the loftiness of her soul, or the blindness of her 
passion. O, woman, you reign, and man is subject to your 
dominion ! you reign over your sons, your lovers, your 
husbands ! In vain do thev call themselves vour masters, 
they become men only when you have rendered their ex- 
istence complete: in vain do they boast of their superiority; 
their glory, and their shame, are alike derived from you. 
This is every where perceptible — in history as in fable; in 
the palace of Circe, where the warriors were changed into 
hogs ; and in the palace of the Medicis, where men became 
as wild beasts. 

Speaking of a generous action, a generous man, Byron, 
declares that he could not undertake it ; his friends urge 
him ; he resists their entreaties ; then, after a moment's re- 
flection, he exclaims — " Well, if had been here, she 

would have induced me to undertake it. She is a woman 



ON THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN. 49 

who, amidst all seduction and temptations, has always in- 
cited a man to glorious and virtuous actions — she would 
have been my guardian angel."* 

If, then, there be an incontestable fact, it is that of the 
influence of women; an influence exerted over the whole 
of life by means of filial piety, pleasure, and love. This 
being admitted, one is led to ask oneself by what incon- 
ceivable oversight so powerful a lever has been hitherto 
neglected — how moralists, instead of calling to their aid 
the softest and the most energetic power, have laboured to 
weaken it — and how legislators of every period have com- 
bined to render it prejudicial to us? for it cannot be too 
often remarked, that all the evil which women have done 
us is derived from us, and all the good which they do us 
comes from themselves. It is in spite of our stupid educa- 
tions that they have thoughts, an intellect, and a soul ; it is 
in spite of our barbarous prejudices that they are at the 
present day the glory of Europe, and the companions of 
our lives. At a period not yet very remote, grave doctors 
denied them a soul ; but as if Providence had taken care to 
revenge so great an outrage, there then existed at the 
Louvre that Isabeau who gave up France to a king of 
England; and in a lowly hut on the borders of Lorraine 
that Joan of Arc who saved her country, expelled the Eng- 
lish, and died the death of a martyr, after having lived the 
life of a hero. 

What we have done to degrade women, what they have 
done to civilize us, presents perhaps the most moral and 
dramatic spectacle in our history. There was a time when 
their beauty alone strove against barbarity : shut up in tur- 
reted castles like prisoners, they there civilized the warriors 
w^ho despised their weakness, but who adored their charms. 
Accused of ignorance by those who deprived them of the 
means of instruction ; vilified by prejudices, and deified by 
love; weak, timid, seeing nothing around them but steel 
and soldiers, they adopted the passions of their tyrants ; but 
while adopting, they softened them. We next saw them 
directing the combatants to the defence of the weak. Chi- 
valry became a protector ; it redressed wrongs, and was 
thus the precursor of the reign of the laws ; at last, after 

* It was to defend, at the House of Lords, a petition of prisoners for debt. 
Byron's Memoirs. 

4 



50 ON THE INFLUENCE OF WOMEN. 

having fought for the conquest of kingdoms, it humanized 
itself so far as to fight for the beauty of the ladies, and 
civilization commenced by means of gallantry. A great 
revolution was effected in France on that day when a 
noble knight caused his soldiers to retire, on learning that 
the castle of which he was about to commence the siege 
was the asylum of the wife of his enemy, and that she was 
about to become a mother. 

A little later, some elements of science having penetrated 
through the obscurity in which the world was enveloped, 
all eyes were dazzled ; and it was then that the fate of 
women became worthy of commiseration. So long as men 
had believed themselves to be superior merely by their 
bodily strength, and by the energy of their courage, they 
had yielded to the ascendant of weakness and beauty ; but 
when their brains became muddled with a vain science, 
they were seized with pride, and women nearly lost their 
empire. The most unhappy age for them was the age of 
clerks and doctors, when the impertinent questions were 
started of the pre-eminence of men, and the inferiority of 
women. An alphabet of their malice, and the history of 
their imperfections, were drawn up ; the existence of their 
soul was even called into question, and theologians them- 
selves, in their confusion, seemed to forget that the rela- 
tionship of Jesus Christ to the human race was but by means 
of his mother. These discussions produced this deplorable 
result, that the degradation of women became a system of 
moral polity, as the degradation of the people was made a 
system in politics. Our fathers for a long period confounded 
ignorance with innocence; and from this arose all their 
evils. They wished for simple women in the interest of 
husbands, and for an ignorant people in the interest of power. 
Women thus assimilated to the people, received, like the 
people, no sort of instruction. Every thing was against 
them, science, legislation, theology ; theology, which was 
then mistaken for religion, and which only exhibited to 
them virtue beneath the stripes of discipline and the austeri- 
ties of penitence. Such was the fate of women. It was 
by depriving them of their soul, and delivering them up to 
those petty devotional practices, without morality, which 
stupify the mind, that they hoped to preserve them pure 
and immaculate. That their wives retained sufficient in- 



EDUCATION OF GIKLS. 51 

telligence to give the lie to the foresight of their husbands, 
may be seen from the historiettes of Louis XL, of Boccaccio, 
of the queen of Navarre, &c. ; in them are illustrated the 
advantages of ignorance, of which the soirees of Bouchets, 
Pantagruel, &c., completed the gothic picture. These licen- 
tious books, which are scarcely named at the present day, 
were at that period books read in good society, and quoted 
by ladies in their castles. That the people, for their part, 
caused to recoil upon its tyrants the weight of their preju- 
dices and their ignorance, is written in letters of blood in 
every page of our history ; the massacre of the Albigenses, 
of the Armagnacs, of St. Bartholomew, were the works 
imposed on fanaticism and on superstition. Ignorance be- 
lieves all, superstition does not reason ; fanaticism prostrates 
itself, and then rising says. Whom shall I strike'? Wo, 
then, to kings who ground their power upon the degrada- 
tion of their subjects ! These kings may require crimes, 
they may demand blood, but it must be on the condition of 
never stopping in the career of crime or of blood ; the tem- 
pest which they have raised must take its course. The 
more a people is ignorant, the more pleasure it takes in acts 
of ferocity ; it is restrained by no reason — it is enlightened 
by no intelligence — it is arrested by no respect — it is an 
instrument which kills, until, from corpse to corpse, it ar- 
rives at last at the head which directs it. 



CHAPTER y. 

THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS ACCORDING TO THE ABBE HENRY AND 

FENELON. 

A WOMAN excites an insurrection among the people, arms 
princes, drives Mazarin from Paris ; another woman turns 
the cannon of the Bastille against the king, who only re- 
enters his palace after he has seen the great Conde fly. 
Thus began the age of Louis XIV. A few years passed 
on, and the young prince appears surrounded by that bril- 
liant court, all the names of which are chronicled in history. 
Amidst the splendour of festivities and the turmoil of wars, 
the reign of woman is continued — the greatest poets, the 
greatest commanders, the greatest ministers, form the cor- 



52 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

tege of the great king. He fills Europe with the fame of 
his victories and of his amours, and Europe, dazzled, pro- 
claims his age to be one of the four glorious epochs in the 
history of the human mind. Then was heard on a sudden, 
a supplicating voice, which implored a little commiseration 
in favour of women ; mistresses, it is true, of the destinies 
of the country, but the education of whom, amongst so 
many prodigies, had been entirely forgotten. How sur- 
prising was the circumstance, that a simple ecclesiastic 
should accuse himself of a great paradox in stating, that 
girls ought to learn something else than the catechism, 
sewing, singing, dancing, dressing, speaking politely, and 
curtseying. And of what did this new instruction consist, 
which was to scandalize the age of the Sevignes, of the 
Coulanges, and of the Lafayettes 1 It comprised reading, 
writing, and accounts, the understanding matters sufficiently 
to be able to take counsel, and a little knowledge of medi- 
cine, to administer to the sick. This is what the respecta- 
ble Abbe Henry believed necessary to be added to the talent 
of curtseying properly. Poetry, philosophy, history, mo- 
rality ; all that tends to enlarge the ideas, enlighten the con- 
science, and elevate the soul, were not to be thought of by 
women ; such matters did not concern them, or might ex- 
cite their vanity ; yet, in making this concession to the great 
age, the Abbe added, as if suddenly enlightened, "It is said, 
women are not capable of studies, as if their souls were of 
a different kind from those of men ; as if they had not, as 
well as us, reason to guide them, a will to regulate, pas- 
sions to combat; or as if it were easier for them than for 
us to fulfil these duties without learning any thing." 

To this religious voice was shortly added an almost divine 
voice. Fenelon had consecrated the first ten years of his 
career to the instruction of female Catholic children. He 
had read in the hearts of these young children all the secrets 
of another age. He had learnt from their innocence the 
art of directing their passions, and from their simplicity the 
art of forestalling them. This delightful study, while ex- 
hibiting to him women in their proper character, showed 
him at the same time the necessity of strengthening them, 
because they are wxak ; of enlightening them, because 
they are powerful. Thus was composed, in the pre- 
sence of nature, the book De VEducation des FilleSi a 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 53 

chef d'oeiivre of delicacy, grace, and genius, of which the 
simple and maternal doctrine is but the love of Christ for 
little children. An inimitable model, because it is impressed 
with the soul of its author; a treasure of truth and wisdom; 
the best treatise on practical education yet given to the 
world ; even after the second book of the Emile, which is 
entirely derived from it. 

In the first chapter Fenelon lays down the principles : to 
the instruction recommended by the Abbe Henry, he super- 
added at the outset, Greek and Roman history, the history 
of France and its relations with other countries. He even 
goes so far as to consider the study of Latin reasonable, 
because it is the language of the church and of prayer; 
thus attacking the insensate doctrine, which causes to be 
addressed to God supplications unintelligible to those who 
pray, unless they have studied Horace and Virgil. Lastly, 
he allows the reading of works of eloquence, literature, and 
poetry. All these appear to him good, because they excite 
in the soul lively and sublime sentiments which lead to 
virtue. 

It is true that heavy restrictions immediately follow ideas 
so novel. The principles being laid down, the author reflects 
upon the peculiarities of the age, and stops short. At first 
he thought of the destiny of women, according to the laws 
of nature ; he now estimates it according to the position 
which they occupy in society ; and this fatal point of view 
becomes the limit of the good which he wished to do. " We 
must be apprehensive," said he, " of engaging women in 
studies in which they might become opinionated, for they 
are neither to govern the state nor to make war." A specious 
mode of reasoning, which carries with it its own refutation. 
Women, it is true, are neither to govern nor to carry on 
war ; but if they rule those who command, what will be the 
consequence of their enlightenment or of their ignorance? 
This is the question which should have been examined ; and 
in this point of view the opinion of Fenelon is altogether 
favourable to our case. We will not say that women are 
our masters; such a term would wound French delicacy; 
even our gallantry would not dare to adopt it ; but we will 
say, with the great genius whom we have quoted, " that 
good is impossible without them; that they either ruin or 
elevate families ; that they regulate all the details of domestic 



54 EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

affairs, and, consequently, they decide upon all which most 
nearly concerns the whole human race." 

The education of women is more important than that of 
men, since the latter is always their work. Such is the 
doctrine of Fenelon — such is the substance of his book. 

This book was written at the period when women pos- 
sessed the greatest influence; when from their romantic 
throne they gave to society those polished and graceful 
manners which were to change the destinies of Europe ; 
and yet such was the power of prejudice, that in the pre- 
sence of the most gallant court in the world, Fenelon was 
obliged to justify his undertaking, not only by reasons of 
interest or of humanity, but by this purely theological prin- 
ciple, "that women constitute one-half of the human race, 
redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ, and are, as well as 
men, destined for an immortal life." In order to teach 
them something else than singing, dancing, and saluting 
gracefully, he was under the necessity of invoking the merits 
of the redemption, and of covering them with the blood of 
our Saviour. 

The ideas of Fenelon were but little understood in his 
age, and are too much neglected in ours. After having 
trampled with both feet on his doctrines and on his work, 
we believe that we have advanced ; and yet, how many 
countries in Europe — how many towns in France — are there 
in which the truths which it contains are unknown ! Even 
in the very centre of civilization are women what they 
ought to be? And does not their education, at the present 
day, bear witness to our ingratitude and want of foresight? 
On seeing the manner in which they are brought up, might 
it not be said that their good or bad inclinations would be 
unattended by any result? O women ! is it then true, foolish 
men every where condemn you to unhappiness — to abjec- 
tion ? Every where do they treat you as playthings, shut 
you up like idols, or sell you like merchandise? The most 
polished people, far from enlightening your reason, and 
elevating your soul, place their happiness in corrupting you; 
they teach you to consider dress as the first essential of life, 
and beauty as the chief of human qualities ; they induce you 
to rely upon this transient beauty, and, as the height of 
stupidity, after having depraved your hearts, weakened your 



EDUCATION OF GIBLS. 55 

reason, and obscured your intelligence, they rest their honour 
upon your virtues ! 

What indifference, therefore, is there not annong women 
respecting important affairs ! and what a degree of ardour 
exists for frivolities! Their souls, agitated by the whims 
of the day, are passionately directed towards things of 
nought, for which they dissemble, disguise, and torment 
themselves ; for which they suffer cold, heat, hunger, destroy 
their health, and risk their lives. Alas! we give to our 
dauofhters the habits of courtesans, to our wives the instruc- 
tion of children, and then we ask of Heaven glory and hap- 
piness ! What is the consequence ? the levity of one sex 
necessarily influences the habits of the other ; women are 
trifling in order to please us ; and we must become frivolous 
in order to be agreeable to them. Our political and moral 
indifference, the ignorance of our interests and of our duties, 
the forgetfulness of our country, our petty vanities, our faults, 
our evils, all this is the work of women. Their character 
is become the national character. We have been obliged 
to receive from them what they had obtained from us. 

But let our mothers become citizens and all will be 
changed ; instead of disputing, like nurses, as to which has 
the prettiest and best dressed children, they would emulate 
each other as to which should best sow, as the good Amyot 
says, the seeds of virtue in the soul, and of vigour in the 
mind, — and France would become the model of nations. 
Legislators 1 it is high time to think of such matters. These 
women, whom you forget, constitute one-half of the human 
race. Do you wish for magistrates, warriors, citizens T 
Are you desirous of the prosperity of a kingdom — of a re- 
public? Address yourselves to the women; for unless they 
attach our souls to your institutions, the works of your 
genius will remain useless among nations. In dictating 
your laws, in drawing up your codes, have you condescended 
to remember that women exist? Do you know what is a 
mother's love; do you remember that her voice is the first 
sound which strikes our ears? her look the first light which 
rejoices our eyes? her songs our first concerts? her caresses 
our earliest pleasures? Have you considered this hourly 
and daily influence, and the indelible impressions to which 
it must give rise? Well, this is only one of the threads 
which nature weaves, of the omnipotence of women. They 



56 OF PRESENT EDUCATION 

educate us as children ; they inspire us as men. A mother's 
love incites us to good or evil ; the love of a mistress or of 
a wife decides our destiny. 

To labour for their education, is, then, to labour for our 
own. By giving them elevated and noble thoughts, we de- 
stroy at one blow our petty passions and our petty ambitions. 
We shall be so much the more worthy, in proportion as 
they become better ; and they cannot render us better with- 
out becoming happier. Even at the present day, the exist- 
ence of women may often be said to end when our homage 
to them terminates. In youth they reign, in old age they 
are neglected; and yet these years, so long and dreary, 
might become years of delight. There is a power superior 
to that of beauty, viz. that which depends upon the enlight- 
ened fulfilment of duties. This is a means of being always 
young and beautiful which deserves to be tried ; yet this is 
not all. A woman, who lives surrounded by her family ; 
who has learnt, in order to teach; who expands her soul, in 
order to exert all her influence, becomes, by this circum- 
stance alone, inaccessible to seduction. The foresight of 
Nature is full of grace; she has established, in the heart of 
the mother, the source of the virtues of the child ; and, by a 
sweet reaction, she wills that the innocence of the child 
should be the safeguard of the discretion of the mother. 



CHAPTER VI. 

OF PRESENT EDUCATION AND ITS INSUFFICIENCY. 

" Une jeune femme qui entre dans le monde n'y voit que ce qui peut servir a 
sa vanite et I'idee confuse qu'elle a du bonheur, et le fracas de tout ce qui I'en- 
toure empeche son ame d'entendre la voix de tout le reste de la nature." 

Voltaire. — TraiU de Metaphisique. 

" Que de parens croient avoir eleve leur filles lorsqu'ils ont paye leurs maitres." 

Mad. Bernier. — Sur V Education des Femmes. 

Since the periods of Fenelon and Rousseau there has 
been progress among men, and the education of women 
has consequently improved. We now no longer discuss the 
question, whether they should be instructed, or the amount 
of the instruction which should be allowed them. We 
consent to develope their intelligence. We go further, and 



AND ITS INSUFFICIENCY. 5t 

give them the talents of artists, and of doctors of sciences; 
they skim, if we may so speak, encyclopsedial studies, but 
in these studies there is nothing which leads them to think 
with their own thoughts. When, therefore, the passions 
arrive, to which it is not too much to oppose habits of vir- 
tue, the powers of the soul, and the principles of religion, 
they find hands skilful upon the piano, a memory which 
recites, and a soul which sleeps. Such is, with a few rare 
exceptions, the woman which the age gives us, with her 
petty devotional practices, her school morality, her mecha- 
nical talents, her love of pleasure, the ignorance of the affairs 
of life, and the want of loving and of being beloved. 

It is not that this education has not also its bright side. 
It introduces into society artistical taste and manners, more 
grace, more originality. The duchess and the hourgeoise 
may compete in our salons with first-rate talents; some 
compose poems, which are sold for the benefit of the Greeks 
and Poles ; others paint pictures, the price of which is ap- 
propriated to charitable purposes; all write with graceful- 
ness, and the style of Sevigne and of Lafayette is become 
almost common. Thus education gradually levels society; 
its uniformity is the most powerful democracy, and I do not 
think that I advance a paradox in saying that the talents of 
women have done more towards the equality of ranks, than 
all the decrees of our national assemblies. Enter our most 
fashionable salons, observe that group of men, of all ages, 
standing in the centre, and who all appear as if dressed 
from the same piece of cloth ; one of them is a banker, 
another a marquis; this a magistrate, that a virtuoso. Well, 
notwithstanding the monotony of their black coats, there is 
in their language — in their gait — a something which dis- 
tinguishes and classifies them. It is not the same with re- 
spect to women. From their graceful attitudes, the ele- 
gance of their manners, you would think them all equal in 
point of birth and rank. There is the same instruction, the 
same charm, the same taste for the arts. No means of dis- 
tinguishing the daughters of a notary from those of a cour- 
tier; those of a capitalist from those of a general. Look 
at that charming group assembled around the piano, exe- 
cuting together one of Rossini's best productions, with as 
much self-possession as Italian singers — they are the wife 
of a peer of France, and of a physician ; a marchioness, a 



58 OF PRESENT EDUCATION 

young arliste^ and the daughter of a man of business; no- 
thing distinguishes one from another except talent. 

Now cast your eyes on that lady whose toilet is so simple 
and yet so elegant; she is one of our pretties duchesses. 
See what an amiable smile she exchanges with the young 
person seated near her. Both are remarkable women. 
The duchess teaches her sons Latin, and writes novels; 
the other composes verses. She is a poetess; she is beau- 
tiful ! the Corinna of the age: her glory is her nobility. 
Thus in this elegant assembly in which all is confounded, 
birth, fortune, titles, conditions, there is no blemish; beauty 
attracts the eyes, talent marks the places, and education 
passes the level. 

Certainly, if the life of women were to be restricted to 
exhibitions and fetes, if their business were only to dazzle 
and to please, the great problem would be resolved by this 
education of soirees: but the hours of pleasure are short, 
and in their train follow the hours of reflection. The life 
of home, moral life, the duties of mother and wife, all this 
comes, and all has been forgotten. Then they find them- 
selves as in a void in the bosoms of their families, with 
romantic passions, an unbridled exaltation, and ennui, that 
great destroyer of female virtue. The lamentations of the 
fatal consequences of this state of matters assail our ears 
on all sides; it is the cry of all mothers, the complaint of 
all husbands; and in these painful straits, wherein each one 
is agitated and desponding, the w^orst effect is, that care- 
lessness terminates all. 

What is requisite in order to obtain a correct idea of the 
want of foresight in our education? If we ask ourselves 
what is the end to be attained: is it religion? But religion, 
improperly understood, it is true, condemns almost all that 
is taught. Is it domestic happiness? But the talents ac- 
quired with so much pains, those talents which prevent 
thought, disappear in the routine of household affairs. Is it 
the prosperity, the glory of the country ? Ridiculous ! what 
mother thinks of such matters now-a-days? Thus, in pro- 
portion as we seek the end, every thing disappears; nothing 
for private happiness, nothing for the general prosperity. 
The world remains, and it is to that point, in fact, towards 
which all our previsions are directed. The object is more 
to please the world than to resist it; to shine, to reign. 



AND ITS INSUFFICIENCY. 59 

Vanity ; such is the object which the tenderest mothers do 
not cease to show their daughters, and upon which rock the 
world, which cheers them on, sees ^hem wreck themselves 
with indifference. Vanity in dress, vanity in agreeable 
talents, vanity in instruction. Be handsome, be polite, people 
see you ; be gentle, be submissive, people hear you, says a 
mother to her daughter; that is to say, let appearance 
always take the place of reality. The soul, like the body, 
has its liffht dresses, to which we are accustomed from the 
cradle. The evil is not cured, it is concealed; the charac- 
ter is not changed, it is disguised; thus vanity covers all; 
to seem not to be, constitutes the aim of education. 

Let music, painting, and dancing charm the leisure hours 
of a young girl, nothing can be better. But wherefore 
should we turn delightful recreations into heavy and painful 
tasks? why satiate her with occupations which ought only 
to be pleasurable? What a question! You wish that she 
should possess talents which amuse her, and we wish talents 
that shall cause her to be applauded ; an artist's hand and 
foot. Once more vanity ! 

Here are books ; good taste has presided over their selec- 
tion. Racine, La Fontaine, Fenelon, Bossuet, Pascal, La- 
martine : very well ; enlarge the young soul, furnish it with 
rich thoughts, strengthen it with wise maxims, cause to 
spring up the appreciation of the beautiful — a sentiment 
which God himself has implanted in it. But, say you, our 
lessons are not intended to make learned women!. Ah 1 I 
understand; the object should be to fill the memory. She 
has remembered some verses, she can repeat certain por- 
tions of geography, of chronology, of history, a few dates, 
a few events : it is an affair of convenance ; the varnish 
which causes a piece of furniture to shine, the gilding which 
gives the appearance of gold to the vilest metal ; the cover- 
ing is a little thin ; no matter, provided the copper do not 
appear. Still vanity ! 

It is true one seeks to check the excesses by the exercise 
of some religious practices ; but this teaching, at all times 
somewhat monastic, is but another impediment in our edu- 
cation. You give to a young girl a taste for worldly toi- 
lettes, a dancing and a singing master, and at the same 
time you prohibit balls and brilliant assemblies. On the one 
hand, you inculcate a contempt for worldly pleasures; on 



60 OP PRESENT EDUCATION. 

the other, you give her lessons -which excite her love for 
these pleasures. You enrich her memory with the chpfs 
d'auvre of the stage, and you prohibit theatrical entertain- 
ments. You praise before her the destiny of virgins, and 
you give her a husband. Always a step forwards and back- 
wards; temptation and a moral discourse; a preparation 
for sin, and a scruple of conscience. Pitiful admixture of 
the fifteenth and the nineteenth centuries, which tends to 
make the same person a penitent and a coquette: the de- 
Jight of a salon, and the angel of a convent. These con- 
trasts, so violently united, jostle with each other at the outset, 
and the war of the passions and of prejudices begins amidst 
the seductions of the world, and in the absence of all moral 
strength and reason. Such are our foresight and our wis- 
dom ; such is the way in which education places us under 
the necessity of offending either the law or nature. The 
point of setting out is always a stumble, and a stumble on 
the brink of an abyss. 

Thus our belief and our sciences only meet to confront 
each other; the war is within us, it is ourselves which it 
destroys ; and our educations have no other result than to 
propagate its fury. All these elements of discord, all these 
opposing principles, w^hich should be amalgamated into one 
universal reason, are cast at our intelligence in their sharp 
and crude forms, without modifying them, without even 
seeking to render their union possible ; their union, which 
alone could constitute a reasonable education. It would 
appear as if a religious and a worldly life were the two 
champions in a deadly conflict. Whichever be the con- 
queror, the man who adopts it is no more than a mutilated 
incomplete being ; the deplorable remains of passions or of 
superstitions. 

The perfect man is he who at the same time leads a so- 
cial and a religious life; with a powerful hand he puts an 
end to the strife of the two adversaries, and giving to each 
his place, he advances with a firm step in the ways of God, 
and in the light of reason. But in order that this light, so 
rare in the present day, should be diffused in the world, it 
must shine in our educations ; it can only arrive at the multi- 
tude mixed with the first emotions of our lives, and beneath 
the irresistible influence of a mother. It is the sacred lamp 



i 



SOCIAL SCALE. 61 



which the laborious wife of Virgil lighted in the night for 
her work near the cradle of her child. 

Mention is made in the Paradise Lost of a lion, the crea- 
tion of which is not yet terminated ; one sees him half 
emerging from the earth, his eye sparkles, his mane is agi- 
tated, but his body is an inert immovable mass, which still 
adheres to the earth, while impatiently waiting for the last 
spark to leap out. 

Sublime image of the human race, it has only the head 
living ; the rest has not even motion. Cause the light to 
penetrate into it, snatch the lion from nothingness, and let 
him take possession of his empire. 



CHAPTER VII. 

SOCIAL SCALE. 

" Partout ou les peuples ont des moeurs elles ont regne." 

Bernardin de St. Pierre. 

In barbarous times women were slaves or servants. 

At the first glimmerings of civilization they became our 
housekeepers, then our companions. 

At a later period they were less restricted to their houses, 
and were more closely united to the world by their agreea- 
ble talents, and to their husbands by the developement of 
their intellect. 

Lastly, when society, having arrived at a more perfect 
state of civilization, without losing its courteous forms, re- 
cognised the rights of men, woman assumed her position in 
the state ; she was at once a housekeeper, a companion, 
and a citizen. 

Thus the place which women occupy in society shows us 
the history of the civilization of the world. 

The savage epoch. 

The epoch of Homer. 

The Greek and Roman republics. 

The middle ages. 

The age of Louis XIV. 

And our own — the age of regeneration, when women may 
raise themselves to the highest position, by the simple fulfil- 
ment of their duties as wives and mothers of families. 



62 EDUCATION OP THE WIFE 



CHAPTER VIII. 

EDUCATION OP THE WIFE BY THE HUSBAND. 

" II y a dans les affections profbndes du cceur quelque chose de pur et de 
desinteresse qui annonce I'excellence et la dignite de Tame humaine." 

Ancillon, de I' Immortality. 

The last chapter but one will doubtless give rise to nu- 
merous protestations. More than one mother of a family, 
more than one directress of a school, indignant at my irre- 
verence, will accuse me of errors, or even of bad faith. 
Such or such a liberal institution will be cited where young 
girls exercise their rhetoric and their logic, as at college, 
and could, if required, take their degrees at a university. I 
shall be overpowered by their knowledge, dazzled by their 
talents, and after all, what v^'ill this have proved ? a very 
insignificant circumstance, that there is nothing exceeding 
the vanity of the scholars, unless it be the vanity of the 
masters, and of parents. 

It is a fact that the instruction of women is ameliorated ; 
but what has this instruction produced up to the present 
time? Let us examine this question. My first observation 
bears upon the method of teaching ; it has been supposed 
that the education of women would be perfected by giving 
it the scholastic forms of the education of men. Here lies 
the error. These forms are only convenient for the pro- 
fessor, for they dispense with the necessity of instruction, 
and of exertion of the intellect. With a few words, he im- 
parts an impulsion to the knowledge of his pupil, as motion 
is imparted to a machine by pushing a spring — the machine 
repeats the names, the dates, the facts ; repeats, in a word, 
judgments rather learnt than understood, but which appear 
to belong to the pupil, and give him the aspect of a prodigy. 
And yet the soul slumbers, all its faculties are forgotten or 
mistaken ; imagination, morality, poetry, the sentiment of 
the beautiful, our celestial guides, are benumbed, and die 
beneath the mechanical developement of memory. 

My second observation turns altogether on the things 
which are learnt. A young girl marries — what have you 



BY THE HUSBAND. 63 

taught her — and what ought she to have been taught in 
order to assure our happiness and her own ? This cfuestion 
so simple, is yet a new question. It appears, at least, that 
no one has dared to ask it ; since no one has thought of 
resolving it. It is a light which is wanting in all our trea- 
tises on education, and which I would wish to extend over 
every page of this book. 

We educate our daughters in vanity and in innocence; 
we then give them to a husband, who destroys their inno- 
cence and cultivates their vanity; thus vanity alone re- 
mains, and here begins its active and disastrous influence. 
It tells woman that beauty merits homage, that happiness 
consists in luxury, that fortune gives every thing, conside- 
ration, and well-being, and that fortune must be acquired. 
That which vanity inculcates, the woman wills, and the 
man executes it. Such is the way of the world — repose, 
health, and even conscience, are often sacrificed to this ob- 
ject. The best years of life are employed in attaining it, 
after which, those who have best succeeded, become dis- 
gusted, and complain with bitterness of the futility of their 
labours. 

Such was not the case in the early periods of history ; 
girls were ignorant even of their power ; they were brought 
up in innocency, and especially in humility : in receiving a 
husband they considered that they received a master, as at 
the present day they believe they receive a lover, and this 
condition of mind prepared them wonderfully for obedience. 
Then it was, that the husband commenced the education of 
his wife — taught her how to regulate the domestic affairs, 
and gave a direction to her mind and character. 

A great philosopher, Xenophon, has transmitted these 
details to us in a special treatise of domestic economy. He 
shows us a young couple deliberating on their duties in order 
to divide their labours and their pleasures ; but, in the first 
place, sacrificing to the gods, invoking their assistance, and 
asking of them to be enlightened, the one to be able to 
counsel well, the other to obey worthily. 

But these lessons of ancient wisdom would be inappli- 
cable to our age. With us life is more intellectual, society 
is more general ; education should, therefore, be more 
extended. For women to reign in the interior of their 
houses ; for them to establish in them order and economy ; 



64 EDUCATION OF THE WIFE 

this is only a part of their mission. Besides the duties of 
a prudent housekeeper, the exigencies and the elegancies of 
the world are to be considered ; other times have rendered 
other modes of life necessary. This is what those persons 
cannot see, who are unceasingly regretting gothic manners, 
or patriarchal virtues. These good people have not even 
perceived that the age of Louis XIV. substituted for the 
isolation of families, the life of society, or, in other terms, 
the life of the salons. Thus our relations are extended, 
manners are more polished, new duties have arisen to 
modify former duties, and from out of all this has origi- 
nated a more perfect civilization, in which women are 
called upon to play the part of legislators, by means of the 
irresistible influence which they exercise over their husbands 
and their children ; all the opinions of men are formed in 
the family. 

This is the good, let us now turn to the evil side; the 
domestic scene, such as Xenophon relates it, supposes, on 
the one hand, virtue in the man, ignorance and humility in 
the woman : our educations bestow neither virtue nor 
humility. 

Far from being able to support our argument by the 
authority of Xenophon, we must come to the conclusion 
that the most perilous time for a woman is the period when 
the passions of her husband insinuate themselves into her 
heart, and alter her character. If these passions be want- 
ing in nobleness and probity, and if the woman have no 
other arms than her innocency, she is lost. Nothing of 
what she has been taught can defend her — she will fall 
without a contest, she will be vilified without suspecting her 
degradation. And what then becomes of the powers of in- 
nocence ? Answer, you who oppose them with so much 
audacity, and for so many ages, to the seductions of the 
senses, of vanity and of fortune. 

The education which most husbands give at the present 
day to their wives, is a spectacle which I would wish to 
place beneath the eyes of all mothers. This young girl, 
without experience, almost without ideas, whom you give 
to a man she scarcely knows; if she be handsome, passes 
in a few hours from submission to sovereignty ; from calm- 
ness of the soul, to high excitation of the senses. Her hus- 
band is inebriated by her caresses, he is amorous, he is 



BY THE HUSBAND. 65 

jealous, he is furious ; he now labours to destroy, at once, 
the innocence of his wife, and her earher affections — to 
isolate her from the world, and even from her mother. He 
labours to this end with eagerness, without considering the 
evil which he does to himself; the effervescence which in- 
toxicates him, and which disturbs his reason, is manifested 
by extravagance and frenzy. Oh ! he is ready to ruin him- 
self for her — to sacrifice his life, his honour, to her — she is 
not his companion, she is his idol — like to a mistress or an 
opera-dancer, whom one covers with cashmeres, insults, 
adores, pays, and of whom one becomes satiated. The 
young wife, incapable of knowing how much there is humi- 
liating in these brutal passions, smiles at her triumph, and 
accustoms herself to these violent emotions, which are so 
shortly to escape from her. 

Amidst this life of dissipation and caprice, the perceptions 
become sharpened, and the soul evaporates. Alas ! nothing 
now remains of that innocent girl, but a frivolous woman, 
running from visit to visit, an object of pity and of adora- 
tion. Music and dancing already occupy the place of thought 
— then come dress, and the theatres — then the gossip of the 
world — then vain desires and vain pleasures ; and, at the 
end of all this, a void, the most frightful void. What a 
mode of life ! one would be inclined to think that intelligence 
was bestowed upon her merely that she might rise in the 
morning, dress, and chatter all day. It was well worth 
while to combine with so much care, these artistical talents, 
with the innocence of a child, in order to offer up to the 
world one victim more— a charming, an adorned victim — 
and that is all. 

But we approach the conclusion. The first acts of the 
drama are played, and all the scenes w^hich compose it ter- 
minate in the same catastrophe; to the sighs of love will 
shortly succeed the cries of despair — the passion of the hus- 
band has cooled — the illusions of the wife vanish. This 
woman, of whom he made a mistress — this woman, whose 
beauty alone captivated him, this woman, whom he has 
spoiled, depraved, and idolized ; whose caprices he adored, 
w^hose passions he had excited — this woman, whom he had 
intoxicated with adulation and pleasures, he no longer wants 
her, he is tired of her : yesterday he loaded her with presents, 
to-day he complains of his embarrassments, and speaks of 

5 



66 EDUCATION OF WIVES. 

economy; she is no more to him than a housekeeper, a 
being fit to take the orders of the master, and to be reckoned 
with the servants. 

Ah ! to be obliged to descend from the throne, — to be 
treated as a despised woman, afier having been treated as 
an idolized mistress ! 

Sad day, which sooner or later arrives without having 
been foreseen. Then supervene bitterness, hatred, ven- 
geance, contempt, adultery. Adultery, which brings in its 
train scandal and dishonour. The wife separates herself 
from her husband, or she deceives him. The heart requires 
love. Youth will seize again its lost emotions ; one seeks 
that other half of oneself of which one has dreamt, and the 
depravation commenced by the husband is completed in the 
arms of a lover. 

After a similar picture, is it necessary to say that it is 
not the woman who should be instructed bv means of the 
husband, it is the husband who should be regenerated by 
means of the wife. What, then, is to be done I Restore 
women to the complete sense of their dignity, and teach 
them to distinguish true love from the fury which usurps 
its name. The first point is that they should be loved and 
respected ; that they should on no account consent to the 
deplorable part imposed upon them by our brutal passions ; 
that they should learn how degrading is the homage which 
would transform them into instruments of caprice and of 
pleasure. I will dare to say it, there is no possible progress 
for civilization so long as women have not made us blush 
at those gross assimilations which even good company thus 
enumerates: — Wine, dinners, women, horses — sad catalogue 
of the pleasures of the brute by which man blasts the very 
bosom which bore him. 

But how can they make us blush at such things, if they 
do not blush themselves ? Let the most exquisite delicacy 
be, then, in a young girl, the light of her modesty, — as in 
a young woman it is the evidence of her dignity. It is not 
the grimaces of prudery, it is virtue that I require. In 
rendering seduction more difficult, I would render love 
purer and more ideal ; I would leave it the illusions, which 
charm our youth, and introduce it for the first time into the 
world of the beautiful and the infinite. 

Thus should be accomplished the education of girls ; 



EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 67 

and as to the education of the husband, we need not be 
under any apprehension — it will form itself simply and 
natuallv from the virtues of the wife. 



CHAPTER IX. 

OP SOME MODIFICATIONS NECESSARY IN THE EDITCATION 

OF GIRLS. 

"On doit inculquer a chaque moment dans la tete d'une jeune fille, qu'elle est 
destinee a faire le bonheur d'un homme ; son genre d'education doit etre de lui 
en inspirer le gout en y attachant sa gloire." 

Madame Bernikr, Discours sur V Education des Femmes. 

Marriage is accused of all the evils which I have 
sketched — an unjust accusation ; marriage is good ; it is 
our methods of education which are bad. Whatever, there- 
fore, would amend these methods would render the state of 
marriage more happy. What is required ? only a very 
simple thing, but which has not yet been tried ; viz. to ac- 
custom us from our childhood to all the thoughts and senti- 
ments which are to fill up our lives. I would wish above 
all to fix the attention of young girls on the choice of their 
husbands ; educate them for this choice : impress deeply in 
their souls the characters of true love, in order that they may 
not be deceived by whatever has only its appearance. 

Are they not made for loving? Should not this happi- 
ness extend itself throughout their whole life ? Is it not at 
the same time their supremacy, their power, and their des- 
tiny? And yet the old conventual prejudices which abhor 
love still subsist in families. Mothers forget, in the presence 
of their children, the perils with which this narrow educa- 
tion surrounds them, the illusions to which their ignorance 
gives birth, and the weaknesses which follow these illusions. 
To open the soul of young girls to true love is to arm them 
against the corrupting passions which usurp its name; and 
here the advantage is twofold, for by exalting the loving 
faculties of the soul, you in some measure paralyse the tu- 
multuous passions of the senses. 

Examine the first choice of a young girl. Amongst all 
the qualities which please her in a lover, there is perhaps 
not one which would be suitable in a husband ; and, in fact, 



68 ON THE EDUCATION OF GIRLS. 

she frequently sees little else of him she loves than the beauty 
of his form, or perhaps the elegance of his dress. Is not 
this, then, the most complete condemnation of our systems 
of education? From an apprehension of too strongly af- 
fecting the heart, we conceal from women all that is worthy 
of love ; we allow the sense of the beautiful which exists in 
them to be lost among futilities ; the outside pleases them ; 
what is within is unknown. When, therefore, after having 
been united for six months, they look for the delightful young 
man whose presence charmed them, they are often very 
much surprised to find in his place only an impertinent fel- 
low or a ibol. Yet this is what is commonly termed in the 
world a marriage of inclination. 

It is triie, that in the present state of our manners, young 
girls are seldom called upon to make their choice; their 
imagination is occupied, not with the husband, but with 
marriage. Whence it results that most girls have marriage 
for their object, without thinking much about the husband. 
On their part, the parents seek to match the fortunes; their 
aim, they say, is to secure the futurity of their children, 
and, absorbed with this idea, they treat of marriage as of an 
affair of commerce — as of a thing which gives a position 
in the world — forgetting that it is likewise a thing which 
causes happiness or unhappiness. Thus our foolish wisdom 
has succeeded in detaching love from marriage : we have 
made a bargain by which girls purchase the power of regu- 
lating the expenses of their household, of going out alone, 
and of seeking in the circle around them that half of their 
soul, that ideal being which youth dreams of, and will 
possess. 

For, how much soever our educations may succeed in 
suppressing our inclinations, they cannot destroy them ; man 
and woman are the same being, whom nature unconquer- 
ably tends to unite by love. 

The actual system is then but a deception ; it removes 
the danger from the paternal roof, to transport it to that of 
the husband. Singular education ! the chief aim of which 
is to throw upon another the heavy load of our want of 
loresight. 

Thus, in the present state of matters, young girls are un- 
able to make a proper choice for want of experience, and 
the choice of parents is almost always bad for want of the 



EDUCATION OF MOTHERS OF FAMILIES. 69 

recollection of what is required in youth. We are placed 
between two evils, without any chance of good. 

In order to extricate ouselves from such a deplorable 
position, there is but one means, which consists of giving 
at the same time to girls more freedom and more enlighten- 
ment. I would imprint in their souls an ideal model of all 
human perfections, and teach them to subject their inclina- 
tions to the guidance of this model. While destroying their 
state of half-slavery, I would accustom them to rely upon 
their own powers, which is of more importance as regards 
the stability of their virtues than is generally supposed ; by 
developing in them the innate sense of moral beauty", I 
would accustom them to seek for it every where, and to 
prefer it before all. Love need then, no longer be feared; 
this flame, which consumes, would then be no inore than 
the flame which enlightens and vivifies. 

We shall examine farther on, how the sense of the 
beautiful, this powerful spring of moral, education, is to be 
developed : I say developed, for the sentiment exists within 
us; it is this which colours the anticipations and desires of 
youth, and which leads us in our youthful games and friend- 
ships to imagine things of which we never see the reality. 
It is this which causes the poet and the painter to seize 
nature in her brightest, her most touching, and lively 
impressions. It is this, in fine, which, on reading Plutarch, 
transports the child into the regions of heroic life, when, 
having scarcely left his mother's lap, he despises the crimes 
by which thrones are acquired, and worships the virtue 
which leads to death. 



CHAPTER X. 



EDUCATION OF MOTHERS OF FAMILIES GENERAL PLAN OF THE 

WORK. 



■^ 



" Une femme qui pense, fi done, autant vaut un homme qui met du rouge. La 
femme doit rire, toujours rire ; cela sufRt a sa noble mission sur la terre, cela 
suffit pour maintenir en joyeuse humeur I'auguste roi de la creation." 

Lessing, Emilia Galotii. 

I HAVE shown the faults of our prevailing modes of edu- 
cation, and yet I have proposed no general reform. School 



70 EDUCATION OF MOTHERS OP FAMILIES. 

education, family education, education of convents, old 
methods, new nnethods, no matter, I admit them all, in 
order at a later period to assure their reform ; but this first 
education being completed, I take charge of the pupil, and 
mine begins. 

The young girl has quitted the paternal roof — she is now 
a wife and mother — her solicitude leaves her no repose; 
while seeking every where a method and guidance, a 
secret instinct reveals to her, that in order to render 
herself fit for the education of her child, she must recom- 
mence her own. 

The first thought which she should be led to entertain, 
is to occupy herself a little less about that which she ought 
to teach, and a little more about that with which she ought 
to inspire him. Many other persons may render him 
learned, she alone can render him virtuous. Let the 
mother take charge of the soul, in order to be able, at a 
future day, to direct the intellect ! 

This is the essential point, or to express it better, it is the 
summary of the education of mothers of families. The ob- 
ject is, in fact, to cause women to emerge from the narrow 
circle to which society confines them, and to expand their 
thoughts over all the subjects which may make us better 
and happier. 

It is a religious, moral, and philosophical world which is 
opened out to them. Their mission consists in introducing 
our childhood into this world as into a holy temple, where 
the soul looks into itself, and knows itself to be in the pre- 
sence of its God. 

Let us for a moment consider so serious a question. 

The thoughts of man are not circumscribed, like those of 
animals, within the limits of this globe. They leave the 
visible for the invisible, and freeing themselves from the 
regions of matter, ascend to lose themselves in the contem- 
plations of infinity. There lies all our greatness, since there 
only can we find the principle of our being, the ground- 
work of our morality, the ultimate wherefm-e of this our 
fleeting existence. Truth springs from the immaterial 
world ; it is the torch of another life which throws its fight 
upon this. 

Thus, our soul is drawn towards this unknown world by 
the very necessities of our earthly existence. God has 



GENERAL PLAN OF THE WORK. 71 

placed in it the sources of truth and virtue, with the reve- 
lation of a better life. 

The'study of these great phenomena forms what Socrates 
would have termed the important knowledge. It is the 
proper subject of this book — the knowledge of ourselves, 
which leads to the knowledge of God. 

The knowledge of the moral laws of nature, which leads 
to the knowledge of truth. 

Man may attain this knowledge, since he aspires to it. 
It is the promised land of which we have already a glimpse. 
It will be granted to us, because it is promised and con- 
ceived; and I dare to say, that those who read this book 
with attention will have advanced a step forward in the 
career. One cannot inquire into so rich a subject without 
participating in its riches. It is sufficient to reflect upon it, 
in order for us to become greater; and the soul which enters 
fully into its consideration springs up again more bright and 
more pure. 

Objections may be raised respecting the depth of the sub- 
ject, the weakness of our nature, and the mere passive re- 
sistance which it opposes to meditations which may over- 
power it; and people do not perceive that true philosophy 
is full of light, and that the philosophers alone are in dark- 
ness. On account of the barbarous and pedantic language 
in which philosophy is enveloped, it is the science of but 
few; though by the very foundation of its thoughts, it is 
an universal science. Is it not philosophy which unites 
man to man, and the human race to God 1 These questions, 
so vast, of annihilation and eternity, which absorb the medi- 
tations of the philosopher, how often have I not found them 
occupying the villager in his cot, and the soldier in his 
bivouac ! I know no metaphysics more transcendental than 
those which are formed in a camp, on the eve of a great 
battle. What silent contemplations of infinite worlds — what 
thoughts directed towards invisible creations — what ardent 
prayers towards that celestial life which was forgotten yes- 
terday, but which is now something more than a hope ! If 
a ball strikes me to-morrow, all these luminaries will shine 
below me ! God reveals himself to those about to die ; and 
from amidst this crowd, which no religion humanizes, no 
instruction softens ; from this impure sink of debauchery, 
of crimes, and of impiety, arises all at once an immortal 



72 EDUCATION OF MOTHERS OF FAMILIES. 

thought, which penetrates to the depths of the soul, and 
transports it to the bosom of God. 

Thus the meditations of Socrates, when expiring, may be 
shared by an entire army. What do I say? they animate 
every creature possessed of a soul; the weakest plunge into 
them with delight; they experience the presentiment and 
the want of them. When at fifteen years of age, in our 
solitary walks, we dream of an ideal life of virtue and 
love ; when death appears to us beautiful, and we desire it, 
as a precursor of happiness ; when the word for ever be- 
comes intelligible, and when on this earth where all passes 
away, all dies, we speak of loving eternally, it is a veil 
which falls, it is a new world which is discovered, the per- 
ception of the beautiful — the sentiment of the infinite, place 
themselves between us and heaven, like the steps which 
lead up to it. 

What young girl has not pictured to herself a divine 
image of the man she could love I Modesty yields to love, 
only because she dreams of him in heaven; she sanctifies 
him on earth by eternity. 

Enter into our churches, observe the crowds prostrated 
before the altars; the most humble communicate with the 
invisible world. Oh ! could you but hear their prayers, the 
questions addressed to Heaven, the anxiety for their future 
destinies, the ardent supplications, asking for faith and light, 
you would be able to determine all the questions of which 
the doubts agitate piiilosophers — you would be certain of 
your immortality. "Each individual is a philosopher with- 
out knowing it, and, if we may so say, in spite of himself,'* 
says a sensible and profound writer.* Kant, in his cabinet 
at Kcenigsberg, passed his life in meditating upon the soul, 
and upon duty ; his servant, the old Lampe, had doubtless, 
likewise, his mind disturbed by the same problems. While 
brushing his master's coat in the garden, he thinks that 
Kant was already advanced in life, that some day he would 
die — soon, perhaps. What will become of M. h Professeur, 
so learned and so good, after his death? Will all be over 
with him when he lies in the cemetery? What the minister 
preaches to us on Sundays, is it quite true? What will M. 
Je Professeur do with all his science in the other world ? 
and I, shall I see him there ? It seems to me, that when 

* M. Doudans, in an article inserted in the Journal des Debate. 



GENERAL PLAN OP THE WORK. 12 

one has never done harm to any one . Then came 

the breakfast hour, and the good man thought about other 
matters. Do you not admire how the great philosopher 
and his humble domestic, occupied with the same thoughts, 
arrive at the same conclusions'? the one, by the strength of 
his transcendental genius, the other, by the simple convic- 
tion of a good conscience. 

But the crowd knows not these anxieties which disturb 
some few. And I will reply to you, that amongst the 
lowest and most stupid beings there is not one to whom, at 
some period, these questions — What am I? whence do I 
come ? and whither do I go ? have not presented themselves. 

God and nothingness, fatality and duty, are great ques- 
tions which agitate all of us, according to the scope of our 
passions and our intellectual acquirements. Philosophy 
and religion are present to resolve them. These vigilant 
sentinels warn the human race that there exists a something 
beyond that which is seen. 

A few days ago, a frivolous and coquettish young girl, 
who was for the moment absorbed in grief, on account of 
the death of her betrothed, said to me, " Pray sir, tell me 
of some good books which treat of the immortality of the 
soul ; not that I have any doubts on the subject, but, since 
he has quitted the earth, I wish to feed upon this idea, and 
to be better able to comprehend it." Then, with a deep 
sigh she added, " Men are very happy in being able to give 
themselves up to those studies which tend to impart con- 
solation ; it is, I believe, what you term philosophy." 

Thus, misfortune and death maintain our souls in a salu- 
tary activity ; they are the great teachers of the human 
race ; they dematerialize our thoughts and spiritualize our 
affections. 

And, in truth, I know no example which better expresses 
the misery caused by our systems of education than the 
melancholy reflections of this young girl upon herself. In 
our foolish pride we keep for ourselves this philosophy, 
which is to us a college ornament, when it would be better 
worth while to cause it to penetrate into the soul of women. 
From this book of consolation and of love — this living 
book, always open to weakness and to misfortune, it would 
be delightful, O Socrates ! O Fenelon ! to seize again your 
most sublime inspirations, freshened by the tenderness of 



74 EDUCATION OP MOTHERS OF FAMILIES. 

our mothers, and the love of our wives ! Let us, then,- 
hasten to pour its light into their hearts, in order that 
they may be able to diffuse its cheering rays over our 
whole life. ^ 

What a destiny is that of women! Equally a prey to all*" 
the seductions of pleasure, and to all the anguish of grief; 
as lovers, as wives, as mothers, without any other arms 
than their weakness, who is there that cannot understand 
how important it is to give them an enlarged and solid 
education, which might afford them the resource of a virtue 
more powerful than the griefs which await them, and than 
the seductions which threaten them ? 

In former times religion instructed them from the pulpit; 
but, by concentrating its morality in penitential practices, 
it presented more inducements for repentance than for the 
practice of virtue. The Massillons, the Bourdalous, the 
Bossuets, laboured to stifle the passions — they should have 
learned how to direct them. Far from sustaining humanity, 
they crushed it beneath the yoke of a violent doctrine which 
they lighted up with the flames of hell. And see, their 
greatest aim was not to make us live honestly in the world, 
but to tear us from it. At their voice Lavailliere covered 
herself with the sackcloth of penitence, Chevreuze and 
Longueville fled to the deserts to hide their faults, and 
queens raised temples, founded monasteries, and went to 
humble themselves beneath their roofs. 

Certainly, lofty moral truths, unceasingly repeated before 
the altar, in the presence of God, have not been fruitless 
for humanity ; and if they were separated from all the 
superstitions in which they are shrouded, and from the 
cruel doctrines of an eternity of suffering, and the ven- 
geance of an implacable divinity, women might yet, at the 
present day, derive from them strong and powerful instruc- 
tion ; but solitude is in the temple, priests alone watch in 
it, listening to the distant noise of a world which will no 
longer tolerate their ideas of bygone ages. Formerly, 
people sought them because they walked foremost in the 
paths of knowledge; at the present day, the people wait 
for them in its turn, because they have remained behind. 
It is thus that moral instruction escapes them. What a sad 
reaction of our excesses ; theological impiety has brought 



GENERAL PLAN OF THE WORK. 75 

about the neglect of religion, and the neglect of religion 
delivers us over to all the vanities of our intellect. 

What now remains to women 1 Some devotional prac- 
tices and mass on Sundays; no moral or religious guidance, 
for I cannot call by this name the brief and circumscribed 
instruction confided to the memory in the earliest years of 
life, and which, not being supported, either by the convic- 
tion of parents, or by family example, holds almost the 
place of a dream in the dream of life. Yet the religious 
impression exists, and will suffice, joined to maternal love, 
wholly to reanimate the soul. These two sentiments, which 
are unchangeable in women, are, at the present day, the 
last hope of civilization ; and while the present systems of 
education tend to weaken them, our aim shall be to fortify 
them, and to re-establish their power. This power is alto- 
gether moral ; we will first seek it in the thorough study of 
our material and spiritual faculties. We shall have to 
mark the line that separates them, to indicate those which 
belong to earth, and those belonging to heaven ; an im- 
portant distinction, which has been hitherto too much 
neglected, and the ignorance of which plunges us into dark- 
ness. Before this line be drawn, you are oppressed by the 
vain phantoms of materialism, you are overwhelmed by 
doubts, but the distinction being once established, the 
phantoms vanish, the darkness disperses, and the consoling 
truth clearly appears. 

We will point out how this separation, so simple, suffices 
to confirm the existence of God and the immortality of the 
soul, not as dogmas, but as facts at once independent of the 
illusions of thought and the forms of reasoning. There is a 
pleasure in seeing such lofty truths disengage themselves 
from the invisible world, at once luminous and undeniable. 
These truths make their way, it is true, by means of terres- 
trial sensations, but without originating from them. 

We shall find in this inquiry a new knowledge of our 
being, and consequently, new elements of education, The 
child presents itself to the mother as a divine creature, 
whose intellectual powers it is not merely necessary to cul- 
tivate, but whose soul must also be developed; and this 
soul the mother is acquainted with ; she knows where to 
carry the light, where to address her lessons. Others will 
sufficiently provide the vessel with sails and rigging; she 



76 EDUCATION OF MOTHERS OF FAMILIES. 

alone must take her place at the helm with the pilot, fur- 
nishing him with the compass, and hefore launching him 
out upon the ocean of the world, show him in the heavens, 
the star which should guide him. 

From the study of man, we will pass to the search of 
truth. Truth is opposed to error, and upon error depend 
the barbarity and the crimes which desolate the world. 

Our object is to examine the moral, philosophical, poli- 
tical, and religious questions which concern man, and to 
bring them back to truth, by submitting them to an immu- 
table authority. 

Thus we shall arrive at the most important part of this 
book — the moral study of the Gospel. I say the most im- 
portant, for all education, which has not religion for its 
basis, renders man incomplete, and succeeds at best but in 
forming an intelligent animal. It is a mistake to suppose 
that man is great by means of science; he is only great — 
he is only man, by the knowledge of God. Beyond this we 
only see his circumscribed life, and a philosophy without 
light. 

Wherefore does such universal egotism exist? Whence 
arises the love of gold? the love of power? the love of 
vengeance, instead of the love of humanity ? Whence arises 
so much ambition, which engenders so many crimes ? 
Whence so many murders and adulteries? and so much 
ingratitude, calumny, and depravation ? From two causes, 
error and misery; and there is only one remedy — religion. 

You may well agitate and torment yourself, work your 
brains, to supply the place of this divine power. You may 
vainly interrogate all the sciences of which you are so 
proud ; the figures of algebra, and the lines of geometry, 
these vast unfoldings of the intellect will bestow on you 
nothing more than the knowledge of a learned man. In 
order to form a man, the soul must be developed, and when- 
ever the soul appears it seeks its God. Thus we always 
return to this so much despised thing — religion. The idea 
of God alone renders man complete. 

Such is the sketch of the plan of these studies. We 
address it to mothers, not that they may merely intrust its 
principles to the memory of their children, but that they 
should impress them freely and deeply into the soul : their 
mission is not a teaching, it is an influence ; it is not merely 



THE GRANDMOTHER, 77 

knowledge which they should impart, it is inspiration and 
direction which they should give. In the bosom of his 
family the child receives a certain number of ideas which 
belong to his age, his nation, and the position which he 
holds in it. These ideas are more or less elevated, more 
or less true, — some only express political or religious pas- 
sions, others are only prejudices or superstitions ; no matter; 
while immersed in this atmosphere, he is impregnated with 
it; he becomes whatever he sees or hears, a royalist or 
jacobin, a fanatic or an atheist; just as in former times one 
was of the Armagnac or Bourguignon party, of that of the 
League or of the Navarrese. The impressions of childhood 
may render one enthusiastic for a party, for an interest, 
rarely for truth. 

Do you not perceive that here lies the source of all our 
errors, and that from hence also may originate all our 
virtues ? 

It is, then, into the family that education should be 
carried : truth ought to appear to us in the same light as 
duty did at Sparta, and the love of country at Rome. 
Truth, this great mover of modern nations, the whole world 
is promised to it; and, as we have seen a people of heroes 
produced by the love of country, so shall we see the civi- 
lization of the human race produced by the more vast and 
sublime love of truth. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE GRANDMOTHER. 

"Women, who comprehend well their rights and duties as mothers, cannot 
certainly complain of their destiny. If there exist any inequality between the 
means of happiness accorded to the two sexes, it is in favour of women." 

Mad. Sirey, vol. i. p. 123. 

" The mother who lives in her children and her grandchildren, has, among the 
human race, the beautiful privilege of not knowing the sorrows of old age." 

Mad. Sirey, vol. i. p. 133. 

The education of women tends chiefly towards the intel- 
lect; but it is to the cultivation of the moral sense, to the 
cultivation of the heart, that it should be directed. Were 
we to enlighten the heart, virtues only would remain, and, 
instead of women, we might have angels. 



78 THE GRANDMOTHER. 

And it is, indeed, to this defect of education, that the 
chief misfortunes of women may be traced. Maternal ten- 
derness, for example, is full of deceptions, which, though 
taking their rise in cold selfishness, we never fail of attribut- 
ing to love. Enlighten the soul of the poor mother, and 
you will cause transports of delight to spring from the very 
feeling which now overwhelms her. 

A woman grows old ; the homage of the world forsakes 
her; but she has children; she nurses, she educates, she 
basks in the warm rays of, these young creatures, who are 
born to love her. Nevertheless, there is an hour marked out 
both by nature and the Gospel, in which the child must leave 
its mother ; the son to receive his wife, the daughter to re- 
ceive her husband. The maternal nest is no longer large 
enough ; the birds fly away, the brood is dispersed. Other 
rocks are wanting to the eagle, other shades to the dove, 
other loves to all. It is then that the poor mother, oppressed 
with feelings hitherto unknown, finds her task finished, per- 
ceives her own isolation, sees a blank in the future, and 
knows no longer how to employ life. Here indeed is a 
profound evil, though hitherto unnoticed by moralists ! 

This feeling, which devours her, and which has not a name; 
this feeling, which saddens her in beholding her daughters 
happy and in a happiness which springs not from herself, 
cannot be jealousy, cannot be selfishness, or even regret of 
the past; and yet we detect in it every appearance of them. 
The saloons of Paris yet resound with the history of 
Madame de Bal . . . , a pious and charitable woman, re- 
splendent in all the graces of second youth, who threw her- 
self into a cloister to avoid witnessing the happiness of her 
two daughters, whose education she had carefully directed. 
"What !" said she, " strangers to supplant me in my daugh- 
ters' affections ! Twenty years of tenderness and devotion 
to be effaced by a few days of delirium ! To be left thus 
alone, to be forgotten by my children, and to have my 
sufferings even held in derision ! I dare not interrogate 
myself; my feelings affright me; they resemble envy. But 
can I be jealous of the affections of my daughters?" A sad 
question, but one which almost every mother might address 
to herself, at the fatal hour when a husband separates her 
from her daughter. Let us leave the unreflecting to accuse 
nature of a monstrosity, the whole cause of which is to be 



THE GRANDMOTHER. 79 

found in our false system of education. We have pointed 
out the evil ; we must now look for the remedy. The evil 
is in believing that the mission of the mother has terminated 
the moment that she is deprived by some stranger of the 
attentions of her daughters. For the remedy, — it consists 
in the discovery of the true mission of the grandmother, that 
is to say, in the discovery of all the joys which she can 
diffuse, of all the benefits which she can confer. 

It is but too true, that marriage weakens, at least in ap- 
pearance, those sweet ties which unite the daughter to the 
mother. But how shall this be otherwise? Unhappy 
mothers ! before you accuse Nature, have courage to ask 
yourselves what you have done to prepare for a revolution 
so complete in the existence of this feeble creature ? Yester- 
day she was a timid child, living only in the affection of 
her mother; to-day she is a woman, who imparts happiness, 
and whose caprices are deified by love. The young girl 
obeyed, the young wife commands; and, in this rapid trans- 
ition from innocence to pleasure, from submission to em- 
pire, you w^onder that vanity, delirium of the senses, pride, 
and, more than these, love, have wrought their accustomed 
effects. 

But this evil, which you deplore, and which it had been 
so easy to avert, is but a transient effervescence. The 
mother will soon recover her daughter; she will find her 
again, happy or unhappy, (no matter,) she will find her 
daughter again, to console, to enlighten, to love her. Con- 
solations and love are the life of the maternal heart. 

Thus then the mother, far from being transformed into 
an useless and passive being, after the marriage of her 
children, becomes the guardian angel of her new family. 
Careless of the charms which yet remain to herself, freed 
from domestic anxieties, having renounced the world and 
its frivolities, she finds herself again in the midst of her be- 
loved ones, whom she enriches with the treasures of her 
experience. She alone understands attentive devotetiness, 
kind foresights; she alone possesses that goodness which 
nothing exhausts, and that unfailing tact, which, taking its 
rise in love, can comprehend or divine all griefs. See her 
at her daughter's side on every approach of indisposition ; 
how she foresees the accidents, how she guards against the 
uneasinesses, the disgusts, that threaten her! What tender 



80 THE GRANDMOTHER. 

confidings ! What sweet ministrations ! What cares, which 
she alone knows the exact moment to alleviate ! At length 
come the first pains, which cause the young husband to fly, 
but which chain the mother more closely to the bed of her 
daughter. There is also another woman, who awaits the 
new-born and handles it with indifference ; it is the nurse, 
who only acts in her vocation. But with what transport 
does the grandmother receive the innocent creature ! how 
she broods over it with her looks, how she cherishes it with 
her love ! Oh, she is doubly a mother ; she has recovered 
both the emotions of her youth and the joys of maternity. 
There she is, all tenderness, bustle, and trepidation ; she 
watches over the child's slumbers, comprehends its least 
cries, anticipates all its wants, and divines all its instincts. 
The young wife, exhausted and suffering, scarce dares, in 
her inexperience, to touch the fragile creature; but the 
grandmother, radiant with joy, raises it to the maternal 
bosom, and, having placed it at this source of life, brings 
back the distracted husband to the bed of suffering, and in 
the fulness of maternal feeling thus doubled, pours over 
these three beings the treasures of her benediction. Oh, 
then all pains are forgotten, and, as in the first days of the 
Creation, the family prospers and increases under the eye 
of the Almighty. Then come the physical cares, necessary 
alike to the health of the mother and to the life of the child r 
missions of prudence and devotedness, which demand a 
long experience aided by much love, and which a young 
wife can learn only from her mother. For instance, there 
is not a wife, who, at the cradle of her babe, does not give 
way to the most restless inquietude. The slightest acci- 
dent throws her into a fever, the feeblest cry alarms her. 
Hearken to her; she is recounting sad stories, and, in the 
vivacity of her anguish, becomes exhausted without com- 
fort to herself or good to the child. Not so wdth the grand- 
mother ; she is less alarmed, because she has more expe- 
rience ; and then she is acquainted with the symptoms, she 
has secrets of her own for alleviating them ; then she is 
patient, she can wait ; and it is a fact worthy of attention, 
that, in all the ills of infancy, Nature calls more for our 
patience than for our remedies. The best physician of in- 
fancy is patience. 

Let us cite another example. It happens sometimes that 



THE GRANDMOTHER. 81 

the pains of nursing prevent the young mother from suck- 
ling her child. Here it is that the grandmother is a power- 
ful assistant. She shows the admirable harmony between 
the wants of the infant and the health of the mother, and 
that the health of the mother is every thing to the child. In 
fine, she shows her, that her happiness consists in the per- 
formance of her duties ; and the result of all these lessons 
is the grand one, that experience, like virtue, always leads 
us back to nature. 

Such is the almost divine mission of the grandmother. 
It is to accomplish this mission, that God has endowed 
women in the decline of life, with so much courage and 
sensibility. In proportion to the wretchedness of her, who, 
forgetting her lost freshness of youth, and laden with finery, 
runs after the vain homage that flies her, is that woman's 
glory, who, though still beautiful, is seen surrounded by her 
children and grandchildren. Thus the woman between 
forty-five and sixty, instead of withering away in solitude, 
becomes the soul of a new society. Every young house- 
hold claims her and makes a holiday of her presence, for 
wherever she turns her steps, moral power and tender con- 
solations are in her train. It is thus that families, true to 
the laws of nature, find, within themselves, their pleasures, 
their glory, their instruction and their support. All is linked 
together in the moral, as it is in the physical world ; and 
the grandmother is not only the joy, but the light of child- 
hood. It is through her that the daughters resemble their 
mother, and that the sons, in marrying, carry into the con- 
jugal mansion the virtues which they have practised under 
the maternal roof. 

When the immortal Richardson sought to trace, in the 
character of Harriet Byron, the ideal type of a perfect 
woman, he gave to her for her instructress her grandmother 
Mrs. Shirley, remarking on all occasions, that the deceased 
mother of Miss Byron had been an excellent wife. This 
admirable genius wished us to understand that the grand- 
mother is a second mother, and that her vivifying influence 
can exercise itself over two successive generations. And, 
on this subject, we remember to have heard it said by 
Madame Campan, that, of all the young girls confided to 
her care, the best was one who had been brought up by 
her grandmother. This amiable child was remarkable for 

6 



82 OF THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION 

tender piety, order, submission, attentive obedience, and 
that gentleness, which, if it be not the first virtue in a 
woman, is perhaps her most powerful means of happiness. 
jMot indeed that we mean to insist on the education given 
by a grandmother as being better than that given by a 
mother, but only that the grandmother can best inspire and 
direct the mother in each successive care required by in- 
fancy and youth ; delightful cares, which ward off peril 
and lead to virtue by the path of pleasure and example; 
cares, which all women understand, and of which it has 
been given to no man to comprehend the charm and possess 
himself of the sweet secrets. We will enter into no details 
on this part of education : Jean Jacques Rousseau has ex- 
hausted it; but what we shall never be weary of repeating, 
is, that the heart of a wife, the heart of a mother, is the 
strongest, the most disinterested, and the most ardent, upon 
earth ; that it can support all things except seeing itself 
reduced to imbecility and oblivion, all things save isolation, 
abandonment, and indifference. 

From all this two conclusions are to be drawn : the first, 
that women are not unhappy in growing old, except when 
they misunderstand their twofold mission of mother and 
grandmother ; the second, that society, in the present day, 
shaken even to its foundations, can only be re-established 
by means of the family, and that the family itself cannot 
acquire true elevation except by the maternal influence. 



CHAPTER XI. 

OP THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION OF CHILDREN, AND OF 
ITS PROGRESS. 

"C'est merveille combien Platon se montre soigneux eu ses lois, de la gayete 
et passe-tems de la jeunesse, et combien il s'arrete a leurs courses, jeux, chansons, 
saults et danses: desquelles il dit que I'antiquite a donne la conduite et le patro- 
nage aux dieux memes." Montaigne, Essais. 

At the moment of commencing the education of mothers 
of families, I perceive that their solicitude is awakened. 
They inquire what instruction I intend for their sons? how, 
and by whom this instruction will be imparted to them? 
shall they go to college ? learn Greek and Latin, mathe- 



OF CHILDREN, AND OF ITS PROGRESS. 83 

matics and chemistry? shall they follow the ancient or the 
new methods? In the present state of their minds, all is 
perilous, ignorance as well as science, the austerity of mas- 
ters as well as the laxity of principles, — all, even teaching 
which threatens to introduce into the schools the violent 
doctrines by which society is divided. 

Before answering these questions, it is important to ascer- 
tain the changes which have taken place at the same time 
in the discipline of families and of colleges. The times are 
not very remote when the severity of fathers encouraged 
the severity of the teachers; the pupil then saw nothing 
around him but severe countenances, and hands armed with 
rods. Every where there existed the abuse of force, and 
the forgetfulness of humanity. All the forms of despotic 
governments, and even its infamous punishments, were 
applied to education. Colleges had then official floggers, 
and thus an executioner was introduced among the classes 
of children. 

But at the present day all is changed ; rods are no longer 
scattered about our schools; the gifts of sovereigns no 
longer serve to procure instruments of torture.* The rod 
and starvation have ceased to be the moral powers of edu- 
cation, and the professors, who are now chosen from among 
fathers of families, no longer treat our children in the same 
way as criminals are treated in the public square. 

The source of these reforms springs altogether from the 
ameliorations in domestic life. In proportion as paternal 
severity has diminished, scholastic cruelties have ceased. 
Under our new regime, the tyrannical power of fathers has 
decreased, like that of kings, of which it was the image ; 
but what we have lost in despotism we have regained in 
happiness. Husbands are no longer despots, kings are no 
longer absolute, and fathers deign to love their children ! 
Is it, then, so great a misfortune that austerity should dis- 
appear, and that we should find in its stead the laugh, the 
games, and the songs of love? 

Would you wish to enjoy all the delights of so sweet a 
scene, enter the garden of the Tuileries on a summer's day 
at noon. A few solitary loungers appear here and ihere, 
and are soon lost sight of in the avenues ; but, then, on all 

* Louis XI. having placed his name at the head of the subscribers to the college 
of Navarre, his subscription was appropriated to the purchase of rods. 



84 THE FATHER. 

sides are seen groups of children, commodiously and grace- 
fully dressed, running, dancing, singing, or skipping with 
the lively and simple grace which belong only to our early 
years. Charnning creatures ! they fill with joy these long 
avenues, in which they appear near their mothers, like 
happy souls beneath the light of the Elysian fields. 

Ah ! enjoy these moments so sweet while you may. 
Good mothers ! Providence of your dear children ! allow 
beneficent nature to develope their delicate limbs — others 
will soon adorn their minds and cultivate their intellects, 
but it is your charge to arm them for the world which 
already calls for them. From beneath these refreshing 
shades listen for a moment to that continued noise, which 
might be compared to the distant rolling of the ocean; it is 
the city which growls; it is its voice which threatens you. 
Alas ! poor children. Yet a little while, and they will be 
cast upon the tempestuous world of which you hear the for- 
midable agitation ! 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE FATHER. 

" La puissance paternelle est devenue amie de tyrannique qu'elle etoit." 

Etienne Jouv. 

It has been asked why we do not call upon the father for 
the education of the child. Our answer is plain : viz. that 
in the present state of things, and with a few rare exceptions, 
the concurrence of the father is almost impossible. How 
seldom can he find time to watch over these young souls ! 
Has he not duties to fulfil, and a livelihood to gain ? Is he 
not a lawyer, merchant, artist, or working man ; and more 
than all this, is he not a citizen? How, then, amidst the 
w^orry of aflfairs, and the ambitious calls of fortune, can he 
be sufficiently at liberty to give to his children those daily 
instructions and examples which alone can raise them to 
virtue? The most difficult thing on earth is not merely to 
do good, but to inspire others, and to cause them to love it. 
Can man compete with woman in the privilege of patience, 
and the forbearance of love ? 

The influence of the father is certainly a good thing 



THE FATHER. 85 

when it is good ! but how rare are the instances in which it 
can be exerted in all its plenitude. Time and inciinatiQTT. 
are the two elements which are wanting. It is likewise 
essentially variable. The woman belongs exclusively to 
her family; the man belongs to his family and to the com- 
munity. Every form of government modifies the duties of 
the father, alters his ideas, and imposes upon him opinions 
which produce actions. Thus, at the earliest period of the 
world, in the time of the patriarchs, for instance, the three 
chief powers of society rested on the head of the father ; 
he was at the same time pontiff, judge, and king. 

A more advanced state of civilization deprived the father 
of these three powers, to bestow them upon the laws. At 
Athens, at Sparta, at Rome, he was no more than a citizen. 
Paternal despotism was modified without being softened. 
At a subsequent period the citizen disappeared, and the 
feudal power arose. All the power of the father was merged 
into that of his lord : he was no longer either judge, pontiff, 
or citizen ; he was master and vassal ; master of the weak, 
vassal to the strong ; always oppressing or oppressed ; his 
tyranny extended even to his family, which he separated 
and lopped off, leaving only one branch to the tree, in order 
that it might rise the higher ; giving all to the eldest son, — 
fortune, honour, greatness, titles ; and leaving the others as 
t;heir heritage, misery, or that anticipated death which is 
termed celibacy. Thus feudal despotism rendered the father 
unnatural. Tyranny still governed the world, but it was no 
longer, as in the time of the patriarchs, tempered by paternal 
tenderness. It was a tyranny of the master to the servant, 
by which the family tended to invidualize itself in the first- 
born, without any other end than the pride of the family 
name, and the splendour of its head. 

Such is an epitome of the history of paternity on the 
earth. Each epoch has a type which represents it. In the 
heroic period, Agamemnon and his daughter ; in the days 
of the patriarch, Abraham and his son ; in the days of liberty, 
Brutus and the scaffold. At a later period the sacrifice 
continues. Abraham no longer raises his knife upon the 
mountain, Brutus no longer turns away his face from the 
bleeding head of his son, the sword ceases to strike, but the 
father still strikes ; ostracism enters into the family, and the 
iniquities of the rights of the eldest born obliterate at one 



86 THE FATHER. 

blow two of the softest sentiments of our nature, filial love 
and fraternfil tenderness. 

And during this period what becomes of the women ? they 
lament, they deplore, they understand nothing of these fero- 
cities of faiih and policy ; their piety so tender, their patriot- 
ism so devoted, are humbled before Abraham and Brutus; 
the scaffold and the pile are to them nothing but what they 
are in fact, barbarities: and from their soul the sublime cry 
^escapes, which a great poet has repeated, God would never 
/ have required this sacrifice from a mother I 

At the present day all is changed : despotism has disap- 
peared from the family as well as from the state. The 
father no longer strikes, no longer curses, no longer kills ; 
he is the protector of his children, not their master nor their 
executioner. It is a remarkable circumstance that in losing 
the power of the tyrant, he has lost the desire for tyranny ; 
and were patriarchal or feudal omnipotence now offered to 
him, he would decline to use it. 

The power which arises from love, renders all other 
power distasteful. 

These poor children, people now think of rendering them 
happy. It would appear that the great troubles through 
which our generation has passed, have taught it not to 
blast in our condition the only days of pure happiness 
which are allowed us in our journey through life. This 
state of things is good ; and yet there are people who see 
in it a sign of decay, and the efficient cause of all the 
evils which threaten us. They regret the strong will, the 
absolute dominion concentrated in the head of the family, 
which regulated the present by the past, tracing out to 
each his path, imposing upon each his destiny; a power, 
the fall of which has occasioned, say they, the fall of all 
other authorities. Thus speak the friends of despotism, 
and they publish volumes upon paternal authority, de- 
manding that it be restored, and attaching to this miracle 
the repose of kings and the prosperity of nations. 

It is true, that by depriving the father of his despotic 
authority, a state of things has been destroyed which pos- 
sessed a unity, a general order, and great power. It is 
true, also, that this power has not yet been replaced, and 
that for want of principles, society seems on the point of 
being dissolved. But can we hope to re-constitute the 



THE FATHER. 87 

present by the past? You believe in the past, but it 
belongs to no one, for the sole reason that it is the past. 
Were you to re-establish the republics of Sparta and of 
Rome, were you to introduce into your codes the Penta- 
teuch and the law of the Twelve Tables, you would effect 
nothing unless you could at the same time re-animate the 
people of which these institutions were the glory. There 
are ideas which die with populations, and which can only 
be revived with them. You require the resurrection of 
these ideas ; ask, then, also the resurrection of the dead. 

The father is the representative of society at home; the 
mother only represents the interior order of the house. The 
one brings home the cares of public life, the other prepares 
the pleasures of the domestic hearth. It is the father who 
should acquire fortune, or provide for the daily sustenance ; 
it is the mother who should elevate the hearts of her 
children to the love of God and man. Thus all the func- 
tions of the father, be he a magistrate, soldier, merchant, 
tradesman, or mechanic, are exterior and public, and all 
those of his companion, be she queen or servant, are inte- 
rior or private ; nature has so ordered it for the happiness 
of the father, and for the morality of the children. 

If the soft voice of the mother, if the grace of her 
gestures, and the sweetness of her look, penetrate into the 
heart of the child, the manly voice of the father, the 
seriousness of his manners, his look, are better adapted 
under difficult circumstances for imposing respect and 
compelling obedience; they prevent the child from be- 
coming enervated in the cradle of caresses lavished in the 
arms and the lap of his mother. 

The part of the father in the education of his children 
can then neither be a lesson nor a labour. Let him im- 
prove his condition by his avocations, let him place his 
delight in fulfilling his duties as a man and as a citizen, 
let his actions be always in accordance with his speech, 
always expressive of generous thoughts, and he will have 
done more for his children than could the teachers of all 
the universities in the world. Society has established the 
education of youth in schools, nature has placed the 
morality of a people in the family circle. Every day on 
returning home the father relates what he has seen or 
heard in the w^orld ; his relations with his work-people, if 



88 



THE FATHER. 



^ 



he be a master; with the state, if he be a public man; 
with his work or studies, if he be an artist or hterary man. 
Then an affectionate exchange of thoughts and sentiments 
take place between the husband and wife, in which the 
high questions of morality and polity are considered at 
proper times. It is thus that the destinies of a country are 
influenced ; thus are formed, by a sweet intimacy in the 
effusions of the heart, the opinions of a whole life. What 
an admirable means of enlightening the conscience of the 
child, of making him an honest man, a patriot — of raising 
his soul to the two passions which most strongly move 
youth, the love of the beautiful and of truth ! This is an 
easy education, which in no wise alters the habits of life, 
which exacts no sacrifice, which requires no care, and 
the vivifying action of which will be exerted over the 
father as well as the children. And, indeed, what father 
will dare to praise vice, or even to boast of a bad action, 
when he knows that each of his words being received into 
their young minds, may become an opinion, and tend to 
form the character of his children ? 

Look at Cato under Sylla, Joan of Arc under Charles 
VII., Bayard under Charles VIIL, Henry of Na varre under 
Charles IX., — whence did they derive the virtues which 
isolated them from the shameful passions of their age, but 
from these simple family conversations ? 

But it must not be supposed that the influence of the 
father is only exerted over his sons. It is through her 
brothers, if she have any, and especially by her father, that 
the young girl learns to know the prerogatives of our sex, 
and how she should one day choose a husband. Our sex 
possesses strength, the poor child knows it, and she who is 
so weak already dreams of directing this strength, or of 
taming it. All her relations with her father teach her, then, 
the dependence of woman ; but it is a royal dependence 
which causes itself to be served and obeyed. She has re- 
course to him in all her wants, she leans upon his arm, she 
rests upon his bosom, she solicits caresses, and subdues 
him ; one perceives that she has understood her strength 
at the same time as her weakness, and this early experience 
acquired in the family will be the lesson of her whole life. 

Here concludes what we had to say respecting the influ- 
ence of the father over the education of children? ' To him 



OF PUBLIC EDUCATION. 90 

belongs the part of bringing beneath the domestic roof the 
generous influences of society, and of extending them to the 
human race. It behoves him to modify by positive virtues 
that which may be too ideal or too exalted in the lessons of 
the mother. It is his province to furnish his children with 
that solid nourishment which, according to St. Paul, is to 
replace the maternal milk. The mission of fathers is to 
defend the rights of the family in society, and represent the 
interests of society in the family circle. They should not 
isolate themselves either from the one or the other, and 
their task will be worthily fulfilled if they form for society 
honest men, and for the country good citizens. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

OF PUBLIC EDUCATION, AND OF A MIXED EDUCATION. 

Man is susceptible of three educations, viz. physical, 
moral, and intellectual education. 

The first was highly estimated in the political institutions 
of the ancients. Socrates might be seen passing from the 
gymnasium to the academy, to accustom his limbs to fa- 
tigue and his mind to wisdom ; holding himself ready to 
serve his country either as a magistrate or as a warrior. 

Among the moderns, gymnastics are no longer a means 
of defence, it has therefore ceased to be a part of the laws 
of the state. Having become useless by the omnipotence 
of artillery, it has been too much neglected as a hygienic 
means. I know not whether historians, or even physiolo- 
gists, have ever made the remark, and yet it is impossible 
that a similar revolution could have been effected without 
inducing evident changes in the physical constitution of 
man. 

Next to physical, comes moral education, which we 
would intrust to maternal tenderness ; it is the subject of 
this book : and as regards the education of the intellect, 
which is the third, it belongs to the professors. Its end is 
to fertilize thought, whereas the aim of moral education is 
to vivify the soul, and to call it in to the judgment of our 
actions. 

From these three educations, properly conducted and 



90 OF PUBLIC EDUCATION, 

maintained in their just proportions, we see man issue com- 
plete. Their isolated and superficial developement pro- 
duces nothing good. A purely physical education tends to 
elicit the cruelty of the animal or the barbarity of the 
savage. The two others, exclusively cultivated, may give 
rise either to religious exaltation and fanaticism, or to the 
pride of knowledge and to nothingness. The tree of know- 
ledge and the tree of ignorance bear the same fruit. 

We will treat of the education of the intellect with refer- 
ence to the education of the soul. Harmony must be 
established between them, which is a somewhat difficult 
matter considering the bad direction given to the studies 
of youth. It is true that public instruction calls for reform, 
and that on all sides voices are raised to require freedom of 
teaching ; but this latter method is full of peril, for while it 
opens a wide field to the progress of thought, it destroys 
unity of doctrine, the only power which causes empires to 
last. 

Schools, you will say, should be adapted to all opinions, 
in order that each family may exert its rights. The father 
has a right to educate his child in the principles which suit 
him. 

To which I would reply by the question : Does there 
exist no superior right to that of the father ? 

Fenelon has said that one owes more to one's family 
than to one's self, more to one's country than to one's 
family, and more to the human race than to one's country. 
This generous idea was for a long period only a Christian 
maxim, but which in the soul of Montesquieu became the 
bond of the political world. " If I knew," said he, *' any 
thing that would be useful to my country, and which was 
prejudicial to the human race, I should regard it as a 
crime." This is the manner in which superior minds un- 
derstand the principle of rights. This application of the 
morality of the Gospel to human institutions is the greatest 
stride which has been made during the last twelve centu- 
ries, in that indefinite perfectibility of which we must admit 
the operation, surrounded as we are by its benefits. 

Whoever regards in this question the isolated interest of 
the father of a family, will retrograde towards the past, 
and will make himself the advocate of circumscribed and 
illiberal ideas. The question at the present day is not only 



AND OF A MIXED EDUCATION. 91 

that of the personal advantage of the family, it is that of 
the particular advantage of the country, subject to the 
general good of humanity. Here the gradation of duties 
becomes the measure of rights, and in expressing the prin- 
ciple in a more precise manner, I would say, Where duty 
is, there is right. 

In conclusion, education is a public affair; to separate it 
into particular interests is to disturb the order, to injure the 
general interests, to organize anarchy for the advantage of 
despotism. It is a terrible law of Providence, eternal and 
without exception, that from the crowd of anarchists there 
always arises a master who flatters and who crushes them, 
after having taught them to obey. 

The rights being recognised, let us come to the appKca- 
tion of the principles. What is public instruction? A 
power which perpetually acts on the political and moral 
existence of a people. 

The definition is simple and precise, it does not even 
leave to government the right of granting an unlimited 
liberty ; and how could it do so without being wanting to 
the first of its duties, and giving the people up to all the 
seductions of an unrestricted license ; to the aberrations 
and errors of the human mind ? 

What ! shall the superintendence of government be ex- 
erted even over the baker, to ascertain the weight and the 
quality of the bread destined for our corporeal nourishment, 
and shall this superintendence stop short at the door of our 
schools ? Can it not assure itself of the amount and the 
quahty of the intellectual food, of the bread of life, which 
teachers distribute to our children? 

To the perils of an unlimited liberty, our adversaries 
will not fail to oppose the perils of a privileged system of 
teaching ; the routine, the party spirit, the Jesuitism, which 
was lately so predominant — the moral and religious indif- 
ference which predominates at the present day — and the 
universal demoralization, the consequence of these excesses. 
We will not attempt to conceal it, these perils are great, 
they are perhaps as great as the perils of free license : but 
what can we conclude from this? Nothing in favour of 
either system. An equal danger appears to condemn them 
both, whence it results, that it is not from a law upon public 
instruction, even were it a good law, that we must seek the 



92 



OF PUBLIC EDUCATION, 



remedy for the evil. This remedy will be found in the 
mixture of the two educations, private and public, — it is 
there, and there only. This is the anchor of safety amidst 
the storm. 

Let the child receive then as an out-pupil in the colleges, 
this scholastic instruction to which so much consideration 
is attached, but which, however, must ere long be reformed ; 
let his intellect be awakened, let his memory be stocked ; 
the soul will be secure, if every evening in the bosom of 
his family he can hear the voice of his mother, and be influ- 
enced by her examples. Thus all reverts to the educa- 
tion of women. We would leave to the colleges the classi- 
cal, and the almost mechanical instruction of the intellect, 
neutralizing the vices of this instruction by the sweetest, the 
most penetrating, and the most durable of all influences. 

While a mixed education shields us from the perils of 
public education, it leaves us all its advantages. Your 
pupil will escape the apathy of solitary studies, and the 
ennui of a monotonous life. You give exercise to his body 
and activity to his soul; other young people work and play 
with him ; he has companions, rivals, a friend ; and this with- 
out leaving his family, without losing for a day the caresses 
of his mother ; he makes the trial of life with the genera- 
tion among which he is to advance himself in the world. 

Thus all would be obtained, the safety of the child, and 
the liberty of the family. Fulfil your duties as a man and 
a citizen, — be a magistrate, soldier, merchant, or agricul- 
turist, — represent in our Chambers the interests of the 
country, labour to improve your fortune, — these labours, 
these duties, far from disturbing your family, serve it as 
lessons and examples. There is only vice, disorder, ex- 
treme misery, all that blasts or dishonours, which is incom- 
patible with the sacred duty of cultivating yourselves the 
souls of your children. But if you make your house a hell, 
if you introduce into it disorder and terror, insolent servants, 
a husband brutal, passionate, a gamester, a drunkard, or a 
libertine ! a wife, either frivolous and coquettish, or else a 
victim always in tears ! What a picture is this to exhibit 
to innocent creatures ! Then hasten to remove them from 
this school of grief; plunge them into the rust of colleges ; 
let your children at least be rather corrupted by others Than 
by yourselves. They will one day be sent back to you 



AND OF A MIXED EDUCATION. 93 

crammed with Greek and Latin, without principles, without 
religion, without love for their parents; but you will at 
least have gained this, that their indifference will be less 
painful to you than their contempt. 

The idea of instructing and elevating the masses belongs 
to modern times : it opens out new doctrines to the world. 
The ancient legislators would not have comprehended it ; 
the legislators of the middle ages would only have seen in 
it an impiety, as they considered that knowledge ought to 
belong only to the church. Consequently, no people, up to 
the present time, has produced all that it might produce. 
I do not say in wisdom or in virtue; but merely in intelli- 
gence. This is a sublime spectacle which was wanting on 
the earth, and which is now preparing for future generations. 

Happy will the people be if, thus regenerated, they learn 
to subject their intelligence to morality. This is the highest 
point of perfection to which man can attain ; and in order 
to attain it, what is required ? A single evangelical prin- 
ciple. All that moves us in the beautiful, all that transports 
us in virtue, all that is generous, all that is heroic, is com- 
prised in these divine words! Love God and man! God 
has placed morality in love, in order that it may be within 
the reach even of the least intelligent. The intelligence 
may be more or less developed ; but the soul shall be great. 
Sublime doctrine ! which seeks its disciples in the lowest 
as well as in the highest grade. And thus this inert crowd, 
these sterile masses, may raise themselves even to the wis- 
dom of a Socrates by means of the charity of Jesus Christ. 
It is their religion which is to vivify the people. They will 
be just before God. if they love men; and powerful among 
men, if they love God. 

Here woman's mission reveals itself. Placed among all 
classes and every people, out of the sphere of political laws, 
exempt from our fatal conflicts, alone in the bosom of 
society, women have remained true to the laws of nature. 
The worry of affairs does not absorb their thoughts ; they 
are neither warriors, magistrates, nor legislators ; they are 
wives and mothers — they are what the Creator has willed 
they should be. They form one-half of the human race, 
which, on account of its very weakness, has escaped the 
corruptions of our power and of our glory. Oh, let them 



94 OF PUBLIC EDUCATION. 

cease to regret that they have no share in these fatal pas- 
sions ; let them leave to us legislation, the political arena, 
armies, war ; were they to partake of our fury, who would 
there be on earth to appease it 1 Herein lies their influence ; 
here is their empire. As they bear in their bosoms future 
generations, so likewise do they carry in their souls the 
destinies of these generations. Let them cause to be heard 
over the whole world the words of humanity and liberty; 
let them excite the single sentiment of the love of God and 
men, and their mission will be accomplished. Armies are 
required to conquer nations, a moral sentiment alone is 
required to civilize and to save them. 



BOOK II. 

EDUCATION OF THE SOUL. 
PSYCHOLOGY AND PHILOSOPHY OF THE MOTHER OF A FAMILY. 



CHAPTER I. 

STUDY OP THE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 

" Nous ne travaillons qu'a remplir la memoire, nous laissons Tentendement et 
la conscience vides." Montaigne. 

" L'Education doit mettre au jour I'ideal de I'individu." 

Jean Paul Richter. 

This book comprises the first elements of the education 
of the soul, and in as far as it depends upon us, the two 
following books shall develope and complete its exposition. 

Let us not be alarmed at the apparent dryness of these 
studies. If the words be severe, the science is divine ; it is 
exercised by ourselves, and in ourselves, in the depths of 
our souls — that immortal sanctuary, where all announces 
to us that we have to meet a God. 

And we will dare to promise it: every woman, who, 
with the fervour of a mother and a wife, will accompany 
us, with the eyes and the heart, in the search of truth, will 
revive, as if by enchantment, to a new and more compre- 
hensive life — to loftier ideas — to a love more pure. She 
.will feel what she has never felt; she will be what she has 
never been ; not that these studies can add any thing to 
'what she is, but they can make her enjoy all that she is. 
They can vivify in her the sense of the beautiful, and 
Destow on her that supreme reason which our educations 
deny her. 

To develope the soul of woman, in order that woman 



96 STUDY OF THE 



n 



should be something more than the plaything of our coarse 
passions; to develope the soul of woman, in order that 
woman may become in reality that heavenly creature of 
which we dream in our youth ; to develope the soul of 
woman, in order that that soul may renew our own. Such 
is the object and the aim of this book. 

But we can acquire nothing without labour, not even 
thought. The intellect sleeps if it be not awakened ; the 
functions of the body rust if it be not exercised ; even the 
soul, which exhibits itself with so many charms during 
infancy, falls into apathy, if it be not repeatedly called to 
the performance of new works. Its life being derived from 
God, it is silent when not occupied about God. Then it is 
that intellect, which becomes expanded among the things 
of earth, seeks to usurp its empire. It begins by calum- 
niating reason, that bright ray of the soul, and then finishes 
by substituting for it argumentations, those aberrations of 
thought. It goes so far as to deny the soul, in order to 
take its place, and proudly relying upon the perfectness of 
the arts, the discoveries of science, the progress of mind 
and matter, it exclaims, " These are my works : man owes 
every thing to me: I am the queen of the universe." 

It is amidst this chaos that we must seek for, and find 
the soul, in order to raise it : raise the soul — the logical 
reason of this phrase is full of depth ! To raise or elevate : 
to restore man to his true place, whence the isolation of his 
intellect has caused him to descend. 

What would happen, for instance, if, after having con- 
founded the faculties of the soul with the faculties of ani- 
mal intelligence, during a period often centuries, we should 
only think of cultivating the latter? The soul would be 
continually overpowered ; there would arise in every direc- 
tion, intellects, brilliant, but cold and powerless for the 
achievement of great things: for intellect imparts to us 
neither the love of country, nor the love of the human race, 
nor the sentiment of the divinity, nor the sublime devoted- 
ness of virtue. The morality of the intellect, when it has 
a morality, is only a calculation applied to ambition. Ob- 
serve our intelligent and thoughtful youth : they are occu- 
pied solely with two ideas, liberty and well-being, which 
are construed by their passions, into license, power, and 
riches. 



FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 97 

Descend lower among the crowd, you will find it occu- 
pied with but one object, that of living ; but one thought, 
that of enriching itself. 

Thus the soul is absent from all our works, and truth 
escapes us, for all truth springs from the soul. 

Some will not fail to reply by adducing the example of a 
few superior beings, who still live for virtue. One must 
believe in the spiritual death of the whole human race, if 
privileged souls did not now and then escape, by the means 
of maternal grace, from the consequences of our lamentable 
modes of education. It is not the exceptions which I deny, 
it is the condition of the mass which I deplore. I grieve 
for the present, from the remembrance of the past, and 
from an apprehension of the future. Are we, then, so old 
as to have forgotten the lamentations of our fathers ? Fifty 
years ago, the colleges sent out into the heart of Paris, a 
generation of Spartans. Twenty years ago, the lyceums 
delivered over to Bonaparte a generation of soldiers: yet 
more recently, the Jesuits wished to produce a generation 
of congregationists. Religion was every where wanting — 
every where the human soul was misunderstood, and the 
moral sense stifled. Beneath the red cap, the uniform, and 
the cassock, France saw the same ambitions appear. We 
had executioners, heroes, and hypocrites. What better 
could our educations produce? One could not expect a 
perfect man from those to whom a mere intellect had been 
given to instruct, or a mere animal to train up. 

The ancients accomplished great things by pursuing a 
course directly the reverse. They left the intellect barren, 
and developed one or two faculties of the soul, thus 
establishing the power of Sparta, Crete, and Rome, by 
means of the love of virtue, subordinate to the love of 
country. 

The soul once awakened by these two powers, all the 
human passions were called upon to serve it, and these 
governments were heroical because their principle was 
immortal. 

What is the principle which directs our modern legis- 
lations? 

We derive fortune and pleasure, our greatness, and our 
miseries, from our intellects; man, deceived by his educa- 
tion, likewise requires from it happiness, as if the happiness 

7 



98 STUDY OF THE FACULTIES, ETC. 

of a moral being could emanate from faculties which 
animals possess in common with him. 

All power, all happiness, comes from the soul. This 
bright truth, applied to education, opens out a new era to 
the civilized world. But this soul, of which the education 
is so important, what is it ? where are the proofs of its 
power, the evidences of its superiority, of its immortality ? 
How can it be recognised amidst earthly passions, and the 
habits of the material world? The necessity of providing 
for the wants of the body, naturally directs our attention 
towards external things, among which w^e are detained by 
the whole spectacle of nature. But when, abandoning the 
world of the senses, we try to plunge into the interior 
world, there to look for our soul — what a chaos ! and 
what darkness do we not discover! Prolonged contempla- 
tions can alone accustom our feeble eyes to this search; 
then all becomes unveiled, w^e break the chains which 
retain us in this obscure cell, where only the shadow of 
things is seen, and we again find ourselves beneath the 
bright canopy of heaven, and in the presence of light. 

It is then to the search, and to the education of the 
faculties of the soul, that we consecrate this work. The 
interest of the subject is immense, or rather herein consists 
the paramount interest of humanity ; it concerns kings 
upon their thrones, as w^ell as mechanics in their work- 
shops. 

Thus our aim is to examine the different faculties of 
which the human being is composed — to render to matter 
that which belongs to matter, and to the mind that which 
belongs to the mind : to determine, in a word, the qualities 
which constitute the animal, and the qualities which con- 
stitute the man ; from this distinction, when once well 
established, (and it has not as yet been so,) we shall see the 
elements of our new education arise. » 

The developement of the intellectual faculties is the pro- 
vince of the schools. 

The inspiration of the faculties of the soul, the develope- 
ment of the love of God and man, is the province of the 
mother. 



KNOW THYSELF. 



CHAPTER II. 



KNOW THYSELF. 



" Que sont tous les interets de la terre, que sent toutes les passions, aupres de 
ce grand interet de I'etre spirituel se cherchant lui meme ?" — Villemain, Melan- 
ges littiraires. 

Two things disturb me in commencing the study of man. 
The brutalization which may cause him to sink to the level 
of animals, and the intelligence which sometimes raises 
animals up to his level. 

I would seize the ends of this chain, and ascertain whe- 
ther they are connected with each other. I would seek to 
be acquainted with the phenomena of instinct and of intel- 
ligence, and to know whether there be any thing else 
beyond them. I would compare the perception, reflection, 
judgment, memory, and the will of animals and of man ; to 
fix w'ith a strong reason the relations which unite them, or 
the facts which separate them, and that without any other 
interest — without any other aim — than truth ; having the 
courage to look it in the face, even were it only to show me 
the depravations of a Berkeley and of a Cabanis, a phan- 
tom, or a corpse. 

Important science ! sole possible basis of a universal 
morality ! Every man who thinks ought to make an eflx>rt 
to recognise himself in it, for faith is practicable only after 
reflection. 

And in order to prepare myself for this task, I will sup- 
pose myself to forget all that I know, all that I believe, 
all that I desire — the apprehension of annihilation, and the 
delights of immortality. I will seek, in the darkness, for 
that ray which may give me life, or for that truth which 
may crush me. But, in the first place, I ask myself who 
has been able to excite in me a curiosity so sublime? 
Whence does it arise ? To what does it tend ? Wherefore 
this uneasiness, which looks beyond all that I can see? 
Whence this zeal, which constantly carries me towards the 
beautiful, which I cannot reach? — towards the infinite, 



100 OF INSTINCT. 

which I cannot understand? — towards the perfection, 
which I cannot possess ? You are astonished at the weak- 
ness of a creature who cannot resolve these questions ; but 
I admire the greatness of the soul which can ask them of 
itself. 

Let us, then, examine whether this greatness belongs 
only to man. Let us study the human intelligence in 
animals which most resemble us, and the animal intelli- 
gence in those of the human race who approximate more 
nearly to the brute. Let us compare the instinctive and 
intellectual phenomena which depend upon the action of 
the nervous system, with the phenomena of conscience and 
of reason ; and let us mark, if we can, the precise point at 
which the influence of the organization stops short, and at 
which our moral liberty commences. 

And, from this examination, vou shall decide which was 
the dupe, Aristippus or Socrates, Dubois or Fenelon; 
which of the two best understands his true interests, the 
voluptuary, who lives but in his senses and in his passions, 
or the sage, who lives in his soul and in the practice of 
viptue. The education, the polity, the life of individuals 
and of nations, the entire philosophical knowledge of man, 
arise from these questions, so vivifying and so vast, that 
the attempt to resolve them is already to deserve well of 
the human race. ' 



CHAPTER III. 

OF INSTINCT. 

" II 'est dangereux de trop faire voir a Thoinme combien il est egal aux betes, 
sans lui raontrer sa grandeur. II est encore dangereux de lui faire trop voir sa 
grandeur sans sa basesse ; il est encore plus dangereux de lui laisser ignorer Tune 
et I'autre." Pascal. 

Instinct is that impulse without reasoning, which de- 
termines in an invariable manner the character, the habits, 
and the manners of animals. Each species has its instinct 
which distinguishes it. Simple instinct, or instinct almost 
without an admixture of intelligence, shows itself especially 
in insects. Their existence is so short, that God would not 
confide to time the care of instructing them. They come, 



OF INSTINCT. 101 

then, upon the earth already taught ; knowing their parts, 
if one may so speak, and requiring neither lessons nor ex- 
amples in order to fulfil their destiny. On seeing the stra- 
tagems, the works, the combats, the attack and defence of 
these armed multitudes, I felt astonished that the picture 
has not varied since the commencement of the world; all 
the different species are at war, and yet one does not anni- 
hilate the other; one is not more powerful than another. 
There is in this chaos of destruction and reproduction, in 
these varieties of powers and instincts, a harmony which 
regulates, an intelligence which presides over all. One 
feels that these little joyful or funereal dramas have been 
composed by the same author, that one hand directs, that 
it is a single work, of which the entrances and the exits 
are combined in such a manner as perpetually to last. The 
unity of God manifests itself even in the wonders of this 
little world. 

The foresight of instinct is sometimes twofold in the 
same insect. The caterpillar lives upon the tree which it 
Hkes, forms itself a winding-sheet, or buries itself in its 
chrysalis, changes its form, and reappears with the gorgeous 
wings of the butterfly. During this long sleep the spirit is 
metamorphosed as well as the body ; one would say that a 
master had been to instruct it in its tomb. No appren- 
ticeship, no trial of its new life, the crawling and destruc- 
tive insect at once expands its wings, abandons the plant 
without which it could not have lived, disdains the leaves, 
its former food, flies from flower to flower, to imbibe a 
juice which it does not know ; its character, its taste, its 
habits, all are changed ; it has the life of a bee, of a bird, 
after having possessed the instinct of a caterpillar. 

Are there two instincts in the same animal? What be- 
came of the second during the action of the first ? Does 
a new organization suffice to determine new habits ? What 
matters'? all the imaginable explanations of this double 
phenomenon, whether they be moral or physiological, could 
only establish this one fact — there is foresight. 

Instinct is then a foresight ; and further, it is an eternal 
foresight. The eyes of our children will see the insect 
with its bright wings burst from its tomb and mount up 
towards heaven, just as in former days the eyes of Plato 
saw it, when he regarded it as the emblem of immortality. 



102 OF INSTINCT. 

But instinct produces something more than the strata- 
gems, the combats, and the character of animals; it has 
its general laws, which act in a uniform manner upon all 
organized matter. Such, for example, is maternal love, 
that energetic sentiment and protecting power by which 
the most feeble beings are universally guarded at their 
birth. It is true that this law, which ascends by gradations 
from the insect up to man, suffers some exceptions, but 
they are only exceptions, not an abandonment. Where 
the cares of the mother are wanting, nature is not wanting. 
Observe fishes; they deposit their eggs by millions, just as 
plants deposit their seeds, so that the multiplicity of the 
germs saves the species as well as maternal love could 
have done. 

I see elsewhere a destructive bird of which Providence 
seems to wish to limit the multiplication.* The form of its 
belly does not allow it to hatch, and it is ignorant of the art 
of constructing a nest; yet it does not indifferently leave on 
the ground the only egg which contains its posterity ; it 
seeks a nest, as if it knew the use of one, and deposits its 
egg in it, as if it could foresee the necessity of its being 
hatched ; it gives a mother to its young one, as if it felt the 
maternal sentiment. All these combinations are not derived 
from it, they exist in it, and revive in each bird of its kind ; 
they are — not its intelligence — but the intelligence of him 
who will preserve his work. Thus the exception comes to 
the support of the general law, the same design is evident. 

I take pleasure in demonstrating both the wonders of 
instinct, and the great foresight which is attached to them. 
Isolated instinct will always be an inexplicable thing. The 
flight of a gnat, the industry of a spider, the labours of a 
•wasp, in providing a shelter for a posterity which it will 
never see, surpass human comprehension ; but the unity of 
these facts, their operation in the harmonies of the earth : 
instinct, as a general law of nature, establishing the equili- 
brium, and founding the duration, reveal an intelligent cause, 
and this cause being once ascertained, all is explained. 

Pure instinct is but a law of nature, like germination ; 
there is only in it one degree more towards life. Insects 
seek their prey, as the roots of vegetables choose their soil ; 
they enclose and defend their eggs, as the plant encloses 

♦ The Cuckoo. 



OF INSTINCT. 103 

and warms its sprouts ; their power is innate, without will 
and without consciousness. You draw out the sting from 
a wasp, nevertheless, for a long time afterwards it attempts 
to sting. You tear off the claw of a crab, yet it still attempts 
to take hold. It is evident that this is a law imposed upon 
matter, but this law is always the expression of a maternal 
solicitude for the individual, subject to the conservation of 
the species and the harmony of the whole. 

Thus, in investigating instinct, I have not failed to per- 
ceive that the question is not merely that of a faculty but 
of a law. Hence I ought to give up the study of the phe- 
nomena, and seek for the object of this law, in order to 
ascend to its cause. This is all that we are permitted to 
know upon the subject; to ask more is to open the chaos of 
questions which cannot be solved, because their solution is 
useless. All the explanations of genius succumb before an 
insect; all the difficulties of metaphysics disappear before 
the presence of God. 

If then animals possessed no more than instinct, the ques- 
tion would be one without danger, as regards our souls ; it 
would be restricted to the examination of a law, above which 
man finds himself placed by his conscience, his will, and his 
liberty. But on looking higher in the scale of beings, on 
ascending from animals with a ganglionic nervous system, 
(insects to vertebrated animals, mammifera, &c.,) I perceive 
a something superior to instinct. Actions are not merely 
imposed, they are modified and multiplied according to cir- 
cumstances and wants. I observe perceptions, memory, 
ideas, and a will. It is no longer the transcendental but 
necessary geometry of the spider or of the bee ; it is the free 
intelligence of a being which reflects and chooses. The 
organization is changed in proportion as new faculties ap- 
pear. Insects have no brain — I perceive one in the horse, 
and in the dog. There is an instrument for the intelligence, 
just as there is one for instinct. Here the difficulty is un- 
bounded. Whilst I saw in animals no more than instinct, 
my mind was calm ; now that I discover a brain, senses, 
and intelligence, my soul becomes uneasy : it understands 
that the question might even ascend to itself In its anxiety 
it interrogates itself; it compare^ it seeks to throw off an 
odious animality. Hard contest between mind and matter, 
in which the mind at last recognises its greatness, in the very 



104 OF INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. 

desire which it experiences to separate itself from the rest 
of the creation ! 



CHAPTER IV. 

OF INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. 

" Ainsi les betes sentent, comparent, jugent, reflechissent, concluent, se resou- 
\iennent, etc. Elles ont, en fait d'idees suivies tout ce dont on a. besoin pour 
parler." 

Leroy — Letlres philosophiques sur Vintelligence des Animaux. 

We see of man no more than his body ; a body subject 
to all the wants — to all the passions — of animals; a flesh, 
the infirmities of which inspire disgnst, and the nakedness 
of w^hich excites shame : a body animated by intelligence, 
but promised to corruption and subject to pain ; senses 
which we possess in common with the brute, and the pri- 
vation of which would reduce us to nothing. Such is, in 
fact, all that strikes me on casting my eyes upon myself; 
but when I come to think that just now another part of my 
being, which I cannot see, was absorbed in the contempla- 
tion of God, my soul again rises, I feel astonished in being 
able to conceive something else besides matter — to foresee 
something else beyond time ; I recognise in myself two na- 
tures, for I aspire to infinity; I surprise in myself two wills, 
for I am sensible of their conflicts ; I feel myself to be double, 
by the disaccord of my celestial and terrestrial passions, my 
appetites and my sentiments, by my wants, my fears, and 
my hopes. There is a double self in man. 

Nevertheless this body perplexes me, it causes me to rank 
among animals, it marks me with a fatal resemblance. 
Have we not the same organs, and do not these organs 
produce the same phenomena? Observe this dog, asleep 
at my feet ; the nerves of his brain are distributed to the 
organs of the five senses, and place him in relation with the 
external world ; light acts upon his eyes, sound upon his 
ears, taste upon his palate ; he receives from them the sen- 
sations and impressions which determine an action. Locke 
ascribes no other origin than this to our thoughts ; but in 
these prodigies of a material intelligence, how can the 
animal ascend, without man being lowered ? 



OF INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. 105 

What a difference ! exclaims the philosopher; the senses 
of man receive impressions, but the soul is there to distin- 
guish them ; it is the soul which sees, feels, hears, and wills ; 
in animals there is nothing of this. Then, may I ask, where- 
fore do sight, hearing, touch, and taste, exist in animals ? 
Why should there be senses, if they are to remain useless, 
without perception and without action? 

Wherever there exist senses there is perception; wherever 
there is perception there are ideas ; and wherever there are 
ideas there is a thinking being. An animal is, then, a 
thinking being. 

One of two things must, therefore, take place : either it is 
not the soul which sees, hears, feels, and wills, in man ; or 
else animals have, like us, a soul, which sees and hears, 
which feels, and which wills. 

Shall we reduce animals merely to instinct? Shall we 
say that they act without intelligence, like the springs of a 
machine ? Before we attempt to delude ourselves by such 
poor sophistry, let us observe what is passing around us. 
Here is my dog, asleep in the chimney-corner ; his sleep is 
disturbed, he is dreaming of pursuing his prey, he attacks 
his enemy, he sees him, he hears him ; he has sensations, 
passions, ideas. When I rouse him up, his visions dis- 
appear, and he becomes calm ; when I take up my hat he 
darts out, jumps about, looks me in the face, and studies 
my actions ; he crouches at my feet, runs to the door, is 
joyful or sorrowful according to the will which I express. 
What then has taken place in his brain ? What combina- 
tion of ideas between my words and the excursion which 
he anticipates ? How does this simple action of taking up 
my hat awaken in him a reminiscence, a desire and a will? 
He hopes, and flatters me ; he whines, and fawns upon me, 
in order that I may caress him. He seeks to please me by 
his joy, or to affect me by his sorrow. The combinations 
of my intellect could go no further ; he is at once a pathetic 
orator and a courtier full of wiles. I observe him, and am 
alarmed. Here is an animal who thinks, wills, remembers, 
and combines his ideas. There are moments in which I 
am tempted to believe him to possess a soul, for, in fact, I 
find in his intelligence the phenomena which exist in my 
own ; a correspondence is even established between our 
wills and our thoughts, our two selves (moi) meet and 



106 OF INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. 

understand each other. If I call him he runs to nne, if I 
scold him he is apprehensive, if 1 forget him he fawns upon 
me ; we understand each other because he thinks. The 
thoughts of an animal? Can matter think 1 And if matter 
can think in an animal, why should it not likewise think in 
man ? But, you may say, the evidences of intelligence 
which astonish me are only the inspirations of the master ; 
the dog, a civilized animal, may repeat thoughts, in the 
same way as a parrot repeats words, without compre- 
hending their sense. And yet, if the dog be capable of per- 
fectibility, if education can alter his habits and modify his 
actions, we must conclude that there is something in him 
■which reflects and remembers. The education of animals, 
without reflection on their part, would be as incomprehen- 
sible as that of man without liberty of action. The court- 
yard dog, for instance, of whom nothing awakens the 
intelligence, who is condemned to the chain like a slave, 
remains all his life in a state of complete stupidity, whilst 
the intelligence of the shepherd's dog becomes developed 
by all the circumstances of his active and attentive life. 
Continually occupied in the care of the flock, every thing 
which relates to his office finds a place in his memory. 
His eye watches, his ear listens ; he concentrates himself 
into a double attention — looking to his master in order to 
obey him ; looking to his flock, to guide it. There are 
some actions which he tolerates, and others which he does 
not allow. He at once distinguishes the green corn which 
must not be touched, from the pasturage on which the flock 
may be allowed to feed. He draws the line between the 
one and the other, always bringing back to order the 
greedy and ignorant multitude, imposing upon the rash by 
movements which frighten them, and chastising the obsti- 
nate, for whom the first warning is not sufficient. How 
much intelligence is there not in these difierenl observa- 
tions? The animal distinguishes, chases, threatens, chas- 
tises, obeys, and commands ; he receives some orders 
which he executes, and others which he transmits, and all 
with quickness, justness, and discernment. When brutes 
do things which we could not do without reasoning and 
judging, we are bound to believe that they reason and 
udge. 
From domestic animals, of which the intelligence is 



OP INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. 107 

developed by associating with man, let us pass to wild 
animals, whose intelligence is developed by peril and 
hunger. Hunters observe a very great difference between 
the actions of a young and ignorant wolf, and those of a 
wolf become old amidst snares and dangers. The gait of 
the former is always free and bold, that of the latter is 
always cautious and uneasy. Wherever he perceives a 
man he suspects a snare ; the most tempting prey will not 
then induce him to advance, and this apprehension becomes 
so strong in him as even to get the better of the pangs of 
hunger. 

The circle of his ideas is then expanded by peril, he 
loses his natural character, which is that of audacity, and 
acquires a factitious character, that of fear; he becomes 
distrustful, that is to say, he institutes approximations and 
reasonings, and by the past judges of the future. This is 
the case with the isolated individual, but the temporary 
association of two individuals of the same species produces 
an influence still more surprising. And, first, if the strata- 
gems which require the concurrence of two animals, sup- 
pose ideas, the execution of these ideas must necessarily 
lead to the supposition of means of communication. Here, 
then, are animals who consult together, as in the fables of 
La Fontaine ; they fix upon a plan, and arrange a series of 
actions, of which each result is foreseen. For instance ; a 
flock is to be attacked, the care of which is confided to a 
dog ; and as this circumstance is known, the dog must be 
got out of the way. The she-wolf shows herself, induces 
the dog to pursue her, while in the meantime, without risk 
or combat, the male carries off a sheep, of which the 
female, after having led the dog astray, shortly arrives to 
partake. Is a deer to be attacked, the parts are calculated 
in proportion to the strength. The wolf sets out, frightens 
the animal, pursues, and causes it to fly towards a spot 
where the female, placed in ambush, takes up the chace 
with fresh powders, and with a certain result. Can we 
refuse thought to these bold combinations, of which all the 
chances are foreseen, of which all the results are assured, 
and which are constantly varied according to the times, 
the places, and the danger. 

But let us mention other instances drawn from nature in 
a yet wilder state. Let us penetrate with Audubon into 
the untrodden forests of America, and ask this great 



108 OF INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. 

explorer for a few of his observations respecting the pri- 
mitive manners of animals. 

" In autumn, at the time when myriads of birds quit the 
north to approach nearer to the sun, let your bark skim the 
surface of the Mississippi. When you see on the banks of 
the river, two trees, the tops of which are higher than the 
rest, raise your eyes, the eagle is there, perched on the 
summit of one of them ; his eye sparkles and seems to burn 
like fire, he contemplates attentively all the visible extent 
of the waters, he observes, waits, and listens to all the 
noises which are heard, and distinguishes them. The sound 
of the antelope, which scarcely touches the leaves, does not 
escape him. On the opposite tree the female sits as a 
sentinel : every now and then her cry is heard, as if ex- 
horting the male to have patience ; he answers by flapping 
his wings, a general movement of his body, and a screech- 
ing of which the noise and the discordance resemble the 
laugh of a maniac. Then he again becomes quiet ; from 
his immobility and his silence you might think him a statue. 
Ducks, and water-fowl of all kinds, fly together in compact 
crowds ; the eagle scorns any such prey, and this disdain 
saves them from death. A sound, which the wind brings 
down the stream, at length strikes the ear of the two 
robbers ; it is the voice of the swan. The female warns 
the male by a cry composed of two notes ; the whole body 
of the eagle trembles, he is about to set off. 

" The swan advances like a vessel floating in the air, its 
snow-white neck extended forwards, its eyes sparkling 
with anxiety, the quickened movement of its wings hardly 
suffices to sustain the weight of its body. It approaches 
slowly, a devoted victim ; a war-cry is heard, the eagle 
darts off* with the rapidity of a falling star, the swan sees 
its executioner, lowers its neck, makes a half circle, and 
manoeuvres in the agony of its fear to escape from death. 
One only chance remains for it, that of plunging into the 
stream ; but the eagle foresees the stratagem, he forces his 
prey to remain in the air by keeping himself constantly 
below it, and threatening to strike it in the belly, or beneath 
the wings. This depth of combination, which man might 
envy, never fails to attain its end ; the swan becomes 
weakened and loses all hope of safety, but her enemy then 
fears that she will fall into the river, and by a blow of his 



OF INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. 109 

talons strikes his victim beneath the wings, and casts it 
obliquely upon the bank. 

" So much power, address, activity, and prudence, have 
achieved the conquest. You could not see without horror 
the triumph of the eagle ; he dances upon the body, he 
digs his talons deeply into the heart of the dying swan, he 
flaps his wings, he screeches with joy ; the last convulsions 
of the bird intoxicate him, he raises his bald head towards 
the sky, and his eyes, inflamed with triumph, are red as 
blood; the female joins him, together they turn the swan 
over, pierce its breast with their beaks, and gorge them- 
selves with its blood."* 

In this terrible drama intelligence is united to instinct; 
it is impossible not to recognise here attention, observation, 
and reflection ; a foresight which arises from experience, 
combinations which suppose a memory, an inteUigence 
which satisfies a passion, a language which awakens ideas, 
and a will which directs them. 

The existence of animals is incomprehensible ; it is an 
abyss in which some lights are shining which add to our 
alarm. Cast Hke ourselves upon this globe, of which they 
possess a part, they also develope on it a thousand different 
Idnds of industry. They fight and labour, forced as they 
are to defend, against all the elements, a life given up like 
our own to the twofold ravages of pleasure and pain. 

Nature arms and preserves them only in the interest of 
a general harmony, and all their relations with man are 
those of a servant to a master. As peaceful flocks, they 
supply us with food and clothing ; as patient drudges, they 
labour in our fields ; as vigilant sentinels, they guard our 
houses : every where their toils relieve us, every where 
their songs enliven us, and in order to let us hear them, 
they instinctively approach our dwellings; it is always 
within the scope of our hearing that birds modulate their 
concerts. Destroy man, and animals, then masters of the 
world, would continue to people and to possess it. Destroy 
animals, the earth would cease to be habitable, and the 
human race would perish. 

Animals were then created for man, because they are 
indispensable to man ; and from this the fact arises, the 

* Revue Britannique, No. 15, 1831. 



110 OF INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. 

deduction which should long occupy our thoughts, that 
from the first period of the creation man was foreseen. 

Thus our existence is dependent on that of animals; 
they approximate to us on all sides, without ever raising 
themselves to our level. Nature gives them only sufficient 
light to escape from or to serve us; but this light is an in- 
telligence which understands and obeys us. Beneath yonder 
coarse exterior there is a mind which knows me, there are 
affections which seek me. Nature seems to have bestowed 
upon matter all the devotedness which we ascribe to love. 
This dog which I love, which hears me, in which I have 
found a friend — I feel myself at the same lime confounded 
by his powers of attachment and thought, and on consi- 
dering his nothingness. Wherefore all these myriads of 
beings born but to die? What is the object of their perpe- 
tuating themselves? What do they on the earth which 
belongs to them only in our absence ? Have they a futurity 
like ourselves ? Why then are they delivered over to the 
caprices of the human race? Are they only a prey pre- 
pared for our voracity ? then why have they passions, why 
pain, why life and thought ? 

When a truth perplexes us, we deny it as if our evidence 
could destroy it. It likewise sometimes happens that supe- 
rior minds oppose a system to it, and imagine that they 
have saved humanity ; but truth,, still exists ; its day must 
come, for all eyes are in search of it. Of what conse- 
quence, then, are the systematic errors of Descartes, Bos- 
suet, of Locke, and Buffon ; genius has no authority for 
untruths. 

This apprehension of truth arises from the ignorance of 
a superior truth, viz. that truth is always good. It should, 
then, be received whenever it presents itself, whatever may 
be the unpromising appearances with which our preju- 
dices surround it. How can it be prejudicial to man, is it 
not the offspring of God? 

Impressed with these maxims, we will not recoil before 
truth ; we will say, the ideas of animals and the ideas of 
man have a common origin ; they are engendered by the 
same principle, sensation ; they are multiplied by the same 
means, memory, comparison, and judgment ; they are ex- 
ercised by the same faculty, the will. Thus to think, to 
feel, to remember, to will, within the circle of matter, are 



or INTELLIGENCE IN ANIMALS. Ill 

animal faculties, and not spiritnal faculties. We must stop 
at this first point, for in the systems of philosophers these 
faculties belong to the soul, and constitute, so to speak, the 
entire soul; a similar view of the subject causes our brain 
to whirl. In order to save the soul, and to separate it from 
matter, we may appeal in vain to the extent of our intelli- 
gence, to the superiority of our thoughts ; the physiologist 
answers us, dissecting knife in hand, by showing us the 
superiority of our organs ; he measures the perfection of 
the intelhgence by the perfection of the instrument. As- 
cending from the shell-fish to the insect, from the insect to 
the dog, from the dog up to man, he exhibits to us thought 
attached to the organization, and developing itself in the 
same proportion, always more vast, always more powerful, 
in proportion as the animal is higher in the scale of beings, 
and to the perfection of its organs. He recognises in the 
palpitating fibres a material law which comprises all crea- 
tures ; man is to him only the first among animals. 

His observations are true ; the conclusions which he 
deduces from them are just. We may admit the whole of 
his argument; he reasons only from dead bodies. 

Let us first observ^e, however, that the force of his 
argument rests upon a metaphysical error, viz. that sensa- 
tion, thought, memory, and the animal volitions, are facul- 
ties of the soul. But if all these things do not belong to the 
soul, what becomes of his arguments? 

The question reduces itself, then, to separating the intelli- 
gent faculties of the animal from the intellectual faculties 
of man ; to knowing what properly constitutes man. This 
separation has never been attempted, for we cannot term an 
attempt the systematic divisions which have prevailed in 
the schools during so many ages, and which tend only to a 
fatal confusion. This, then, is the principle : — none or the 

FACULTIES WHICH MAN POSSESSES IN COMMON WITH ANIMALS 
BELONG TO THE SOUL. 

From this principle, at once simple and transcendent, 
results the following fact : that the faculties of the soul are 
independent of the senses and of organs. 

But the science of the physiologist is altogether material ; 
he estimates the intelligence by the organization ; the forms 
of bodies reveal to him their faculties. How can he judge 
of the soul, which is not connected with that which he sees? 



112 OF PHILOSOPHICAL PHYSIOLOGY. 

At the point where the relations cease, there knowledge 
must also cease; the study of the mind cannot be con- 
founded with that of matter; physiology stops short on the 
borders of metaphysics. 



CHAPTER V. 

OF PHILOSOPHICAL PHYSIOLOGY. 

"Nous croyons qu'il y'a des faits qui ne sont point visibles a I'oeil, point tan- 
gibles a la main, que le microscope nije scalpel ne peuvent atteindre si parfaits 
qu'on les suppose, qui echappent egalement au gout, a I'odorat, a Touie, et qui 
Dependant sont susceptibles d'etre constates, avec une absolue certitude." 

JouFFROY, Esquisses de Philosophie Morale. 

From the principle of Locke, that all the thoughts arise 
from the senses, we have seen a new science emanate, 
physiology. It w^as then supposed that the source of some 
great discoveries was attained. Having been drawn upon 
this ground by their adversaries, the philosophers were 
obliged to continue the contest upon it. They were ac- 
cused of ignorance because they reasoned upon man with- 
out knowing the composition of his body; and they were 
consequently obhged to become anatomists, as their adver- 
saries had become philosophers. This double metamor- 
phosis produced no result ; for the latter quitting the domain 
of matter in order to arrive at the soul, the former leaving 
that of the soul to arrive at matter, each remained in his 
element ; the point of departure sufficed to separate them 
for ever. 

I will then conclude, not that these two sciences are 
incompatible, but that each attaches itself separately to a 
distinct part of man, and of which the point of contact can 
neither be seized by means of the dissecting knife, nor of 
thought. The one studies all of that which in man belongs 
to the animal, the other all of that which in man belongs to 
the angel; how can they meet? 

Another conclusion not less rigorous, is that physiologists 
have accorded to physiology a power which it has not : in 
other words, they have required from it the explanation of 
psychological facts which lie out of its sphere. 

The anatomist may seek the relations of our organs with 



OF THE "TREATISE ON SENSATIONS." 113 

the phenomena of the intelligence ; he may seek in the 
perceptions of our senses all the animal thoughts and pas- 
sions, and he will have attained the limits of his science. 
The scalpel can reach nothing but matter; but is there 
nothing beyond its reach? 

Is there nothing in us which contradicts, combats, and 
condemns our material thoughts and passions? 

That which exists in us beyond intelligence and matter 
is what constitutes the science of the philosopher. 

A reason superior to animal interests. 

A sense of infinity which neither time nor space can 
satisfy. 

A sense of the beautiful, the type of which we have a 
glimpse of, but which has no perfect model upon earth. 

A moral sense, which opposes all our vicious inclinations. 

A conscience, which either condemns or absolves us. 
This is what exists in us beyond intelligence and matter ; 
faculties and a will higher than our intellect, stronger than 
our passions, and which often direct them towards an end 
totally opposed to our material interests. 

And truly, what man is there so unfortunate as never to 
have felt his soul rise against baseness and crime? What 
individual is there who in this terrible contest of our vices 
and our virtues has not experienced, at least once in his 
life, the celestial joy of causing the triumph of inclinations, 
which are not of the earth ? 

The soul is there, it is the soul which triumphs, which 
enjoys, which drives back crime, hatred, vengeance, and 
which from the summit of the cross, while the body suf- 
fered and the intellect grew dim, still prayed for the execu- 
tioners. 



CHAPTER VI. 



OF THE " TREATISE ON SENSATIONS." 

" La realite qui tombe sous nos sens n'est pas toute la realite." 

JouFFRoy. 

Desirous of explaining the nature of man, Condillac 
supposes a statue ; he presents to it odours, images, sounds. 

8 



114 OF THE TRUE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 

Each sense produces its ideas, each idea instructs the 
understanding. The statue thinks, compares, reasons, ima- 
gines, knows, and wills ; the education of the senses is 
complete, and man appears, material, intelligent ; the first 
among animals — no more. 

The statue having received every thing from without, 
man as a moral, infinite being does not exist. In fact, 
nothing is more variable than sensation, nothing more 
immutable than truth. How could sensation produce in 
man ideas independent of things, times, and places ? The 
variable does not produce the immutable. 

Unskilful sculptor ! Condillac forgot to invoke a god in 
beginning his work. He gives life to a statue, and refuses 
it immortality. 

Let us observe, that the statue being once perfect in this 
sense, the author wishes for it nothing more. He desires 
to prove that one may form a man with sensations, and he 
sends forth nothing more than an ape or a parrot: such is 
the whole power of the materiaHst. In spite of himself, 
Condillac refutes Locke; the disciple destroys the master 
in the very book wherein he promises himself to establish 
his triumph. ^ 



CHAPTER VII. 

OP THE TRUE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 

" Revenons a rhomme maintenant, et laissons ce qu'il a de commun avec les 
plantes et avec les beste." Saint Augustin, De la VeriU religieuse. 

" Dans le sein de I'homme, je ne sais quel Dieu, mais il habite un Dieu." 

Seneque. 

Our body partakes, at the same time, of the plant and of 
the animal : there takes place in us a multitude of opera- 
tions, over which our will has no power. The blood circu- 
lates, the hair grows, the flesh is renewed ; we vegetate, we 
grow, we exist, and die without our own consent. Thus is 
man, as a plant. 

It is the vegetative faculty which impresses matter with 
its forms ; it is as the mould of all things, and of all beings. 

Man, as an animal, unites within himself alone, the inclina- 
tions, the passions, the instincts, the intelligence, of all or- 



or THE TRUE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 115 

ganized beings : he is more industrious than the bee, nnore 
cruel than the ti^-er, more cunninsr than the fox ; more ter- 

"'111 

rible, more variable, more dissolute, more insatiable, than 
all the other animals together. This is so striking, that 
their names alone express his different characters : so that 
at the first view, man with his armies, his towns, and his 
palaces, appears to be only the most intelHgent of animals. 

Let him speak of his affections, of his foresight, of his 
memory. I cast my eyes around, and I find all the facul- 
ties of which he boasts, attached to matter in the brute. 
The bird which measures its flight by the experience which 
it has acquired of the reach of gun-shot ; the swallow which 
throws itself into the flames to save its brood; the fox 
which, by its ever-varying stratagems, puzzles the hunts- 
man's pack, reveal to me treasures of imagination, of intel- 
ligence, tenderness, and judgment. I am forced to admit 
in animals, as in man, innate sentiments ; attachment, 
hatred, jealousy, gratitude, revenge, are renewed in them 
at each generation. What we feel, they feel; what we 
will, they will; man has only more scope, because his 
organs are more perfect. He is an universal animal : a 
being who thinks, remembers, combines, reflects, desires, 
reasons, and wills. 

But if I were to destroy all these faculties, all these pas- 
sions, would man be annihilated : to a certainty I should 
have only destroyed a plant, and an animal — the intelligent 
and thinking faculties which are possessed by the brute, 
and which exist in us. Is this, then, the whole man? Does 
his intelligence restrict itself to raising dykes like the beaver, 
or palaces like the bee, with all the developement which his 
organs permit him t Is all his soul concentrated in the 
wants of his body? are all his thoughts in the perceptions 
of his senses, all the will of his passions in the fury of his 
jealousy? Certainly, if man be only composed of those 
faculties which brutes share with him, there is an end of 
his futurity. How can we immaterialize them in the one, 
and not in the other? how give these to eternity, those to 
annihilation? shall we lower ourselves to the level of the 
brute, or shall we raise the brute up to our own ? 

Nothing of the kind : we shall emerge from this slough, 
by reverting to ourselves; the internal operations of con- 
science will reveal to us that hidden bein«j which lives in us. 



116 OF THE TRUE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 

which constitutes ourselves, and which manifests itself by 
virtue. 

The soul will warn us of its power by a will opposed to 
our animal passions ; of its morality, by the sense of justice 
and injustice; of its greatness, by the spontaneous actions 
of a reason which aspires after eternal truths ; of its celes- 
tial origin, by the sublime notions of the beau ideal; of its 
immortality, by the sense of infinity which expands until 
lost in the presence of a God. 

Philosophers, who seek, as Montaigne says, whether man 
be any thing else than an ox, now is the time to exercise 
your science ; take this body, place it on your dissecting 
table — search in its heart, in its blood, its fibres, its entrails ; 
display the innumerable folds of its brain, examining the 
matter, in every sense; handling it, dissecting it with the 
knife, studying it with the magnifying glass ; recognise at 
a glance, memory, will, stratagem, avarice, the spirit of 
calculation; all the human arts, all the animal passions; 
measure the intelligence by the developement of the organs ; 
suppress at pleasure, such or such function, by cutting 
such or such nerve ; and when, after having become mas- 
ters of your subject, you have well seized the relation of the 
fibres to sensation, of sensations to thoughts — on the re- 
mains of this palpitating flesh; then tell me what is that 
powerful conscience, that severe master which commands 
the animal passions, which cuts short their pleasures, and 
which rejoices to see them overcome; tell me what 
sense could have given the idea of infinity to a creature so 
finite ; and whence does he experience the sentiment of the 
beau ideal, the model of which is not to be found on earth? 
Lastly, I would ask you, what is it to act, think, sufl^er, 
and die, for the cause of truth ? and to employ another ex- 
pression of Montaigne, " What sort of beasts are virtue and 
justice?" 

Morality, reason, beau ideal, conscience : such is man 
distinct from time and matter; these are the faculties which 
he alone possesses on the earth. I have found his soul, and 
in his soul the moral source of the human being, — that is to 
say, the necessity of another life. 

From these divine modifications, I see virtue emanate, 
which is the triumph of the soul over matter ; the true love 
which dreams of eternity ; the idea of order, which arises 



OF THE TRUE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 117 

from conscience, and from reason — the relations of effects 
to causes in infinity: in sliort, a God. 

And these faculties which are in me, independently of my 
senses, exist in all men. I find traces of them, more or less 
marked in each individual, in each nation: they unite, they 
constitute the human race. 

For, it is not the intellect which produces civilization. 

Men and nations tend to separate themselves by their 
manners, habits, opinions, and animal passions. They unite 
only at one point — the moral sense, the sense of the beau- 
tiful ; and this invisible link suffices to combine the great 
human family upon the earth. 

In animals, on the other hand, the individual is always 
detached from the species. Its instinct isolates it, even 
when it becomes the instinct of a society. No instinct 
unites the bee of Chamouny to the bee of Mount Hymettus. 
For the bee there is no race of bees, as there is for man a 
human race: there is only a hive. 

Thus, intelligence, memory, will, all the affections and 
passions which are in the hfe of animals, may die in man : 
but man will not therefore die — his immortality is more 
than a fact ; it is a right, were he only separated from the 
brute by the sense of the Divinity. 

During three thousand years, philosophers have not 
ceased to submit the great questions of the existence of 
God and the immortality of the soul to the examination of 
the intellect, and have all been surprised that they could 
only arrive at doubt. For my part, I am surprised at 
their surprise. Let them recommence a hundred times 
the same work, and they will obtain a hundred times the 
same result. How can faculties which belong to time and 
matter suffice for the discovery of the infinite ? Is there 
not a somewhat of folly in attempting to contemplate the 
w^onders of another world, with a torch destined only to 
light us in this ? 

Let us not deceive ourselves : it is for the soul to speak 
to us of the soul : and now that we know its true faculties, 
we have neither doubt nor error to apprehend, for they 
touch on all sides at the truth, which is God. 



118 FIRST LINE OF DEMARCATION. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



FIRST LINE OF DEMARCATION. 



"Dieu I'inepuisable mot, vient au bout de toutes les etudes de rhomrae." 

St. Marc Girardin. 

The animal which has senses, and which perceives ideas 
like man, receives these perceptions and these ideas with- 
out analyzing them, and without seeking for their principle. 
It does not experience that sublime curiosity which inces- 
santly recalls us to the first cause, that is to say, to a cause 
which we can neither touch, see, nor feel, but of which the 
power of imagining and comprehending is bestowed upon 
us. The intelligence of the animal restricts it perpetually 
to the earth; but as regards ourselves, we pass from a 
visible to an invisible world : this is a privilege of our 
nature. We desire to know what we are, and for what 
purpose we exist; we ask ourselves these questions, which 
exceed our intellectual powers. We always go beyond 
time and space, thus illustrating that there is in us a senti- 
ment of infinity and of eternity. 



CHAPTER IX. 

OP THE INSTINCT OF MAN, AND OF THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF 
DEFINING THE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 

Let us then come to the following conclusion, viz. 
That which animals know, and what they have not learnt, 
is a law of harmony purely terrestrial. Their instinct is 
restricted to the earth. 

That which man knows, and which he has not learnt, is 
a celestial faculty, vs'hich displays to him the invisible, and 
carries him into eternity. Our instinct is the revelation of 
a God, and the consciousness of our immortality. 

Let us study in detail the different modifications, or 
rather the different faculties of the soul, and we shall find 



THE MORAL SENSE. 119 

that their sole object is to place man in the presence of 
Him who is. We bear within ourselves the undeniable 
proof of the existence of God. 

Before beginning this study, I ought to give some expla- 
nation respecting the language which 1 have adopted. 
Leaving aside all learned technicalities, I have endeavoured 
to employ only words which are perfectly intelligible. I 
know not whether I am mistaken, but it appears to me that 
the barbarous phrases invented by the schools are abso- 
lutely useless for the purposes of reason and thought; the 
object of philosophers ought to be, not to obscure philoso- 
phy, but to render it familiar to us. Yet we must not 
expect to find here a precise definition of what I call the 
faculties of the soul. Some philosophers have attempted 
it, but always in vain. How can we define that which 
from its nature eludes all definition 1 

To define a thing, is to separate it from the infinite: 
it is to cause it to re-enter the circle of finite things by 
describing the parts which compose it, and by displaying 
it to the eyes. 

Any definition of the faculties which belong to infinity is 
then impossible. Neither sentiment nor reason, nor the 
beautiful, nor God, nor any of the faculties of the soul, have 
ever been defined, precisely because their essence is infinite. 
And yet, that which we are unable to define, we feel it, 
we think of it, we believe in it, we have the consciousness 
of it without knowing it, and this consciousness is the 
mysterious light which shines upon the limits of the two 
worlds. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE MORAL SENSE A FACULTY OP THE SOUL. 

" La premiere idee de justice naVt en nous, non de celle que nous devons mais 
de celle qui nous est due." Guyton-Morveaux, Sur V Education. 

Man is the only one of all beings who is able to abuse 
his powers. Animals enjoy the gifts of nature, but only 
within the limits of their faculties: when once satisfied 
they stop : and to establish universal order, God has willed 
that their desires should expire with their gratification. 



120 THE MORAL SENSE. 



\^Z^ 



Man*s desires, on the other hand, are so exorbitant that 
nothing can satisfy them, and he soon perceives the neces- 
sity of restraining them within bounds. This perception 
is the first revelation of the moral sense which is in him, 
and he proclaims it by regulations and commandments; 
first in his family, next in his tribe, then in the state. 
Such is the origin of human and political law, which is 
holy even when imperfect, for it testifies to our liberty by 
enchaining it, and to our reason by compelling us to 
obedience. 

And so true is it that the nature of man requires these 
chains, that it is only beneath the supremacy of law that a 
people becomes civilized. The more perfect the law, that 
is to say, the greater scope which it allows to liberty within 
the bounds of reason, the more powerful and great does 
the nation become. Thus the prosperity of the masses is 
attached to the perfection of the political laws which arise 
from the sentiment of our liberty, in the same way as the 
wisdom of the individual is attached to the developement 
of the moral sense which is in him. 

Hence it follows, that the moral sense is not dependent 
upon our intelligence, and that it imperatively indicates to 
us what we must do in order to deserve happiness. 

Do that which may render you icorthy of happiness, says 
the philosopher of Koenigsberg. To render oneself worthy 
of happiness is to follow the only path which can lead us 
to happiness : it is the fulfilling of all the moral laws of our 
being. 

Nevertheless, earthly happiness is not a necessary conse- 
quence of the fulfilling of these laws : the soul, which opens 
out this path to us, awaits then for a justice which is not of 
the earth : a reward which supposes a God. 

It is thus that in seeking the end of the moral law, we 
meet with the only power which can realize its promises ; 
and, consequently, at the first steps in this path we leave 
space and time. Our hopes overleap the bounds of creation, 
in order to raise us to the Creator. 

The moral sense — a faculty of the soul. The first light 
which radiates towards God. 



SENSE OF THE BEAUTIFUL. 121 



CHAPTER XI. 

SENSE OF THE BEAUTIFUL A FACULTY OF THE SOUL. 

" On ne peut rien imaginer de si beau, de si grand, qu'on ne le trouve dans 
rhomme ; que Thomme ne puisse meme le produire quelquefois dans une purete 
celeste." 

Jacobi Woldmar. 

The type of the beautiful is immutable — eternal ; it exists ; 
for we have the consciousness and the love of it: conscious- 
ness, to incline us to seek it ; love, to render us worthy of 
contemplating it. 

Enlightened by this internal light, our soul in vain ex- 
hausts all that surrounds it upon the earth : it passes from 
one world to the other, from the finite to the infinite, and 
stops dismayed at the feet of the Creator. In bestowing 
this faculty upon us, God has revealed himself to us. 

Thus the sense of the beautiful makes its way through 
the darkness of our senses : it is a large breach in matter, of 
which all the perspectives open from earth to heaven, fron:i 
time to eternity. 

The sense of the beautiful — a faculty of the soul. The 
second light which radiates towards God. 



CHAPTER XII. 

SENSE OF INFINITY A FACULTY OF THE SOUL. 

"II est done vrai et jene me trompe point en le disant.je porte toujours au 
dedans de moi, quoique je suis fini, une idee qui me represente une chose 
infinie." 

Fenelon, De V Existence de Dieu. 

Everything is transitory upon the earth ; all speaks to 
us of our nothingness : life is composed of days which are 
no more, and the present is but the future which passes 
by. Still if time were only to spare our reminiscences ; but 
after the transports of joy and the pains of grief, indifference 
and oblivion supervene. Our existence is effaced even in 



122 SENSE OF INFINITY. 

our memory; we depart by piecemeal, and these portions 
detaching themselves day by day, disappear in proportion 
as we advance. Thus the past dies, the present vanishes, 
and the future is but a hope. A hope — O mortal, this is 
thy greatness ! Amidst this world of destruction, in the 
presence of death and oblivion, when all around thee 
perishes, thou hopest a life which will never end ! The 
word eternity does not astonish thy soul : it responds to it 
by that of infinity, the sublime sentiment which detaches us 
from time and space, to transport us to the bosom of God. 

It is because the sense of infinity exists in us, that nothing 
which is finite can satisfy our souls. 

The horror of annihilation is a revelation of infinity. 

But what is infinity? all my eflforts to conceive it are 
useless. It is equally impossible for me to deny it or to 
understand it. What I know is, that out of infinity there is 
nothing, or, to express myself better, that all is in infinity. 
Guided by this feeble light, I lay down a number, to which 
I add other numbers; I fill immensity with my calculations. 
— Useless trouble ! The sum constantly increasing, is only 
composed of finite things : I must always refer to its two 
extremes, the beginning and the end : but there, casting my 
eyes on this side and on that, I perceive no end, no begin- 
ning ; that which the figures of arithmetic pursue without 
ever attaining, that which is before and after, that which is 
every where and always, constitutes infinity. 

The sentiment of infinity gives us the idea of all that 
which cannot be attained by the senses : it realizes for us 
the unknown. 

God is infinity; it is God which thou seekest, O my soul, 
since nothing of that which is finite can satisfy thee here — 
below. Thou detachest thyself from all the joys of earth, 
because all these joys have an end. Thou placest thy de- 
pendence solely upon this infinity, which is beyond all our 
passions, and which is at the same time thy hope, thy light, 
and thy satisfaction. 

Thus, man is the point of union between nature and its 
Creator; all that which he experiences beyond his earthly 
desires is an announcement of eternity. It is by means of 
intelligence and love that nature arrives at him ; it is by the 
sense of the beautiful and the infinite that he arrives at 



REASON. 



123 



God. The chain commenced on earth does not break, but 
ascends to lose itself in heaven. 

The sense of infinity — a faculty of the soul. The third 
light which radiates towards God. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

REASON A FACULTY OF THE SOUL. 

" It is by reason that we discover the general rules of justice which ought to 
direct our actions." 

Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments. 

I OPEN for the first time the " Republic" of Plato ; all his 
ideas are new to me, and yet my soul experiences no sur- 
prise : it recognises itself, if I may so say, in these high 
conceptions ; it enters into them with transport, like a con- 
queror into his empire. And further, without any other 
assistance than its own light, it separates truth from error. 
There is in it a judge which weighs, discusses, and chooses ; 
a judge which says, " Here is the good, there is the bad." 
This judge is reason. 

Reason is the sentiment of truth, it is a revelation of wis- 
dom and order. Sometimes it plunges into the world of 
transcendental truths ; at other times it surrounds us with 
the plain notions of common sense — practical reason and 
pure reason. On the one hand, it estimates the material 
interests of humanity ; on the other hand, it exhibits to us 
God ; but it is still the same reason. 

Philosophers have calumniated reason without hearing it. 
They reproach it with bending itself beneath the yoke of 
the passions, as if it were bestowed upon us in order to 
combat them. They do not see that reason is a light, not 
a force; that its office is, not to conquer, but to enlighten ; 
that it docs not master our vicious inclinations, but that it 
shows us the penalties of them ; that it does not enforce 
virtue, but signalizes its delights. Such is reason ; posi- 
tive, inflexible : its oracles must be accomplished either in 
the face of the world which despises it, or in the depths of 
conscience, which it enlightens even when succumbing. 

This, then, is the most energetic power of nature, for in 
addressing itself to the intellect it leaves it no other choice 



124 REASON. 

than that between truth and falsehood, wisdom or folly, 
virtue or remorse. Between the two extremes, reason causes 
her light to shine, the divine reflection of which extends 
afar in the heavens. 

And in fact, there are two universal revelations ; the one 
external, which is nature ; the other internal, which is 
reason. Nature addresses herself to the senses ; all her 
perceptions are local, varied, and transient. Reason is 
independent of matter ; all its ideas are one — general and 
eternal. Unity, generality, eternity, is the triple character 
of reason. 

Vainly do Montaigne and Pascal declare violent war 
against reason, threatening with the condition of brutes 
whosoever walks by its light. No one is inclined to believe 
them. One feels that they deceive themselves, either from 
humility or pride. That, if you ask them what offends 
them in reason, they will answer you by decrying politics, 
medicine, history, jurisprudence, all the physical and moral 
sciences;* thus reducing reason to the pleadings of advo- 
cates, and to the contradictions of the learned. In this 
manner, then, do these lofty intellects mistake the work 
of God, calumniating the only guide which can lead us 
to virtue ; the latter to cast himself upon a blind faith, of 
which the last term was the sackcloth of the fanatic, and 
the idolatry of the savage; the former to cause the triumph 
of doubt and incredulity. 

What a panegyric of reason is this fall of its two most 
powerful adversaries. And after this, how much surprise 
do we not feel, when we see Kant, the transcendent genius 
of the age, with the sole view of striking at reason, submit 
the existence of God, and of the immortality of the soul, to 
the abstractions of a lying logic ; weigh the arguments for 
and against, declare their weight equal, and at last triumph 
over the impotence of reason ! as if true reason had any 
thing to do with these pitiful reasonings. It is very true 
that Kant's philosophy rests upon that imperceptible con- 
fusion which ascribes to reason all the sophistries of the 
understanding. The understanding is a compound power, 
and is consequently variable ; its faculties are at the same 
time spiritual and animal, they comprise the sensations and 
the passions, which have each their separate logic. It is 

* Essais de Montaigne. Pensees de Pascal. 



CONSCIENCE. 125 

not therefore accorded to them to produce conviction. 
But reason is a simple power; it has no arguments, no 
categories, no contradictions; it is reason, that is to say, 
light. What can darkness effect against light 1 Reason is 
always in the right. 

Socrates, interrogating Menon,* asked him, " What is 
virtue ?" ** There is," said Menon, '* a virtue of man, a 
virtue of woman, of the child and old man, of the slave 
and of the citizen." " The question is well answered," 
said Socrates, " we only asked for one virtue, and the ad- 
mirable Menon presents us with a whole collection." Our 
modern philosophers have treated reason in the same way 
as Menon treated virtue. 

Observe carefully the men who rail at reason, and see if 
they have not some interest to keep you in darkness, for 
reason, as we have already said, is the light. 

Let us then conclude that, though reason explains nothing, 
yet it shows us God as the explanation of all. In fact, 
all the problems which the understanding presents, all the 
phenomena which nature exhibits, can only be resolved in 
God ; and it is thus that reason arrives at their solution. 
If then, from the testimony of the senses, man knows 
that the world exists ; so by the testimony of reason, he 
knows that the world has an author. And this is not 
merely the reason of a man, it is the reason of the whole 
human race. 

Reason— a faculty of the soul. The fourth light which 
radiates towards God. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

CONSCIENCE A FACULTY OF THE SOUL, 

" Nous formons notre conscience au gre de nos passions, et nous croyons avoir 
tout gagne, pourvu que nous puissions nous tromper nous-memes." Bossuet. 

Conscience becomes awakened by the notions of good 
and evil : of justice and injustice. It is the first faculty of 
the soul which appears in us; it is powerful, but blind. 
He who deceives his conscience may become a Ravaillac or 

* Plato's Dialogues. 



126 DEDUCTIONS. 

a Marat. Man is not always innocent when his conscience 
absolves him ; he is not always guilty when his conscience 
accuses him. Have a care, young mother, now is the time; 
free thy reason in order to expand thy soul, for it is about 
to pass entirely into the soul of the child. Ah ! do not 
suffer any other thoughts than thine own to penetrate into 
that sanctuary. It is a question between vice and virtue, 
between the joy or remorse of a whole life ; thou engravest 
upon brass. The earliest education is effected entirely in 
the conscience, and conscience is only good when enlight- 
ened by reason. 

Conscience is the executioner of our bad passions; it has 
joys which raise us up to heaven, and pains which preci- 
pitate us into hell. Inflexible to fortune^ power, and 
pleasure, conscience only gives way before repentance and 
virtue. 

From it we derive faith. Conscience and faith, like two 
Wind men, cast themselves groping in the paths of fanati- 
cism, of superstition, and of idolatry, and arrive ultimately 
at God. There the human race meet ; the want of belief, 
the sense of the beautiful, the contemplations of the infinite, 
bring man constantly to this point. Thus, on every side, 
the soul makes its way through the senses, it breaks out in 
matter, as the fire in darkness. It wills that one should see 
it, that one should knov/ it ; manifesting its existence by the 
sentiment of virtue, its greatness by the thought of God, it 
spreads over this terrestrial life, sublime lights, the source 
of which exist only in heaven. 

Conscience — a faculty of the soul. The fifth light which 
radiates towards God. 



CHAPTER XV. 

CONCLUSIONS FROM THE FIVE PRECEDING CHAPTERS. 

•' Et c'est ainsi, dis-je a ition ame, 
Que I'ombre de ce bas lieu, 
Tu brules invisible flamme 
En la presence de ton Dieu." 

Lamartine, Harmonies. 

Thus, the direction of all the faculties of the soul indi- 
cates a point of meeting placed beyond the boundary of 
this life. 



INTERNAL ANTAGONISM OF MAN. 127 

Thus, the veritable man, freed from matter, is an essence 
which tends towards God, by all the points of his being. 

Thus, there is an universal truth, the authority of which 
is infallible, not because it is universal, for universal errors 
are known to exist, but because it is in us, because it 
appears divinely at each birth to constitute the testimony 
of the human race. This truth is God. 

All the faculties of the soul discover him. His existence 
is the condition of our greatness. His existence is the con- 
solation of our misery. His existence explains all. 

God does not prove himself. No animal faculty, no 
faculty of the intellect reaches up to him. Logic denies 
him, reasoning denies him, metaphysics deny him, the 
passions deny him. What matters ! the soul perceives him. 

This fruitful truth is the source of all truth ; this celes- 
tial instinct is the source of all virtue. God has not con- 
fided us to an unstable intellect, which has equal argument 
for falsehood and for truth ; he has placed us above reason- 
ings, in the unchangeable sanctuary of conscience, of reason, 
of the beautiful, the good, and the infinite ; he has placed 
us in his own attributes, as if to instruct us of our glorious 
destinies ; by impressing his name on his work, God has 
consecrated our immortality. Thus, two natures exist in 
animals ; the instinct which attaches them to earth ; intelli- 
gence which unites them to man. 

Two natures exist^ in man : intelligence which unites 
him to created beings ; the instinct of the soul which reveals 
to him a God. 

The sphere of creation extends from matter to mind, 
from nought to eternity. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



OF THE INTERNAL ANTAGONISM OF MAN. 

"Whenever I will examine my own conduct and judge it, it is evident that I 
divide myself, so to speak, into two persons, and that the self (moi), who judges, 
is different from the self whose conduct is examined and judged." 

Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments. 

From this separation of the two natures of man, we see 
originate this fact, worthy the attention of the philosopher. 



128 INTERNAL ANTAGONISM OF MAN. 



^1 



All the faculties of the intelligence tend towards earth. 
All the faculties of the soul tend towards heaven. 

The one kind of faculties are ideas : the others are senti- 
ments. Two natures, two empires reign in the same being 
— death and immortality. 

According as these two natures are more or less deve- 
loped, our ideas are more or less terrestrial : our sentiments 
are more or less religious. 

And in these matters the power of man is the greatest 
that can be conceived. 

I would then engrave in letters of fire on the heart of 
every mother — I would proclaim to the whole world this 
truth : — " The faculties of the intellect grow and become 
stronger by labour. The terrestrial 'passions acquire strength 
by our weakness. The sentiments of the soul acquire strength 
by the exercise of our will.^^ 

This difference is characteristic ; it contains the proof of 
our moral liberty. Thou shalt be an animal, inteUigent, 
and given up to thy passions, if thou abandonest thyself to 
thy material appetites like animals. Thou shalt be a free 
being, an immortal substance, a man, if thou so wiliest it. 

Mark well, that the sentiment of God is bestowed upon 
minds of the most limited calibre ; whilst some lofty intel- 
lects lose themselves in the abyss of atheism. Complete 
incredulity, if it exist, explains itself by the slumber of all 
the faculties of the soul. 

The developement of only one of these faculties suffices 
to show us God : all together do not enable us to compre- 
hend him. 

And yet they cannot be wanting to us, without every 
thing being wanting. The brightest geniuses among the 
incredulous, are always incomplete beings; they give us 
the work of the intellect : religious geniuses give us the 
work of the intellect and of the soul. Thus we may see 
the superiority of Socrates, Descartes, Newton, and Fenelon, 
over all the intellectual powers which have advocated the 
doctrines of annihilation. 



FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 129 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE DEVELOPEMENT OF THE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL LEADS US 
TO THE PRESENCE OF GOD. 

t 

" Les veritables principes de la morale sont encore a nailre avec la connais- 
sance plus intime des facultes de notre ame." Bonstetten. 

"Dieu est esprit, et ce n'est que par I'esprit qu'on peut I'atteindre." 

BOSSUET. 

There are then in man two beings very distinct, the 
intelligent being and the spiritual being. To the one belong 
the ideas which are derived from the senses, to the other 
the sentiments derived from the soul. The being which 
has ideas, and the being which has sentiments, constitute 
each a self (rnoi), and their perpetual contests form the 
drama of life. They are the two men whom Louis XIV., 
recognised in himself, and of whom the conflicts produced 
so many shameful or magnanimous consequences, accord- 
ing as the one or the other was the conqueror. 

In the animal there is only one being : there are therefore 
no conflicts. Its thoughts act only among matter, and 
remain material. In man, on the contrary, the thoughts of 
the intelligence unfold themselves through the sentiments of 
the soul, and derive something from them. The vilest 
receive an impression more or less profound of the celestial 
essence. This is what renders love so sublime every time 
that the troubled soul impresses it with the sentiment of the 
beautiful and of the infinite. 

One does not instruct the faculties . of the soul, one 
awakens them. All that comes to us from them seems to 
us either a reminiscence or an inspiration. 

Thus the great moral truths exist in us as sentiments, 
before genius renders them perceptible as thoughts. 

The tlio'jghts of genius are nothing more than a clearer 
view of the faculties of the soul, that is to say, of the senti- 
ment of the divinity. 

This ex})lains what happens to us on reading Plato, Des- 
cartes, Fenelon, Rousseau, Bernardin de St. Pierre ; ihey 

9 



130 



PHYSICAL AND MORAL 



do not instruct, they fertilize. All which they think to 
teach us, we believe ourselves to remember. 

And yet this phenomenon only occurs with reference to 
the great moral truths which are in us. Never, for in- 
stance, do w^e think we recollect the physical truths which 
we discover, and about which we are occupied for the 
first time : intelligence has only memory for that which 
it learns — the soul has a memory for that which it has not 
learnt. 

From these principles, and these facts, I will conclude 
that the combination of the faculties of the soul composes 
a superior being, a separate, perfect, and immortal being. 

But as all the faculties of this being are sentiments, it 
follows that the essence of the soul is not thought, but love. 
Therefore, it is only through love that we can approach to 
God. ^ We are not allowed to comprehend, and yet it is 
permitted us to love him. God reveals himself to this part 
of ourselves, and this revelation is more than a hope; if 
God shows himself to man, there must be in man a some- 
thing worthy of God, 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

OF MEMORY AND PHYSICAL WILL — OF THE MEMORY AND WILL 

OF THE SOUL. 

" L'homme est done le temple de Dieu, ef il merite beaucoup raieux ce nom 
que le monde ... car il n'est pas seulement le temple, il est I'adoraleur." 

BOSSUET. 

_ " II resulte de la que la societe des animaux ne peut subsister que par des pas- 
sions, et celle des hommes que par des vertus." Bernardin de St. Pierre. 

Let us suppose a creature organized like man, with 
hands, a brain and thought ; let us abstract from this crea- 
ture the moral sense, the sense of the beautiful, of the in- 
finite, reason and conscience ; in short, all the faculties of 
the soul ; man, a celestial being, will no longer exist, and 
yet there will be a complete, a living being, an animal 
endowed with intelligence superior to that of the dog or 
the monkey ; the man of the materialist. 

This being will experience sensations and will perceive 
ideas, according to the theory of Locke ; he will possess 



MEMORY AND WILL. 131 

memory and volition, but this volition will be restricted to 
the things which fall under the cognizance of the senses, 
and will only excite material passions and coarse appetites. 
Thus, on the one hand, there would be no revelation of the 
power which created the world ; on the other, no moral 
will against bad passions ; the internal conflict between 
good and bad would cease ; the antagonism of man would 
be annihilated, and all that the sense of the beautiful and 
of infinity can produce of great and generous, all the works 
of the human soul, would be obliterated from our history. 

Such a creature does not exist. There is no intermedial 
between the brute and man, unless it be man himself, for 
man sometimes sinks to the level of the brute. But from 
this abjection to which he is cast, he may be redeemed, 
whilst nothing can raise the brute from its brutalization ; 
the most perfect animal remains faithful to its instincts. 
Educate a dog; the most brilliant success will only produce 
a dog ; that is to say, that his intelligence, so wonderful, 
will only develope itself within the acknowledged qualities 
of his species. Thus, he may chase, watch the flock, love 
and defend his master, but you will never teach him to 
live in a community like the bee, or to build a house like 
the beaver. 

And even the qualities which are proper to him are 
extremely limited. All is restricted to intelligence, and to 
affections without choice and without enlightenment ; the 
dog attaches himself to the master which chance gives him. 
He does not love men ; he gives himself to a man, and he 
looks for his protection ; it is the instinct of the ivy, and 
not the election of love; it is a law imposed, not a free 
sentiment ; that which you admire in him you will find in 
a hundred thousand others, and all the prodigies of the 
individual are only the character of the species. An 
admirable animal, doubtless, but evidently created for man, 
since from this attachment which is so strong, and from 
this wonderful intelligence, no ray of light radiates to- 
wards God. 

It is not the same thing with man. Choose the most 
abject being in the lowest grade of intelligence, place this 
man in circumstances favourable to the developement of 
the beautiful and the infinite ; on a sudden, this being, void 
of intelligence, will raise himself up to the thought of God; 



132 PHYSICAL AND MORAL 

and from out of the heart of the brutal and vicious man, 
you will see spring up the noble sentiments of pity and of 
love. 

There are in us some lights which our idleness leaves in 
the shade ; others which education leaves in forgetfulness ; 
a moral idea only is required to render the former visible, 
as a blow only is required to cause the spark to emanate 
from the flint which conceals it. 

The celebrated methodist Whitfield was preaching in 
the streets of Philadelphia. The prodigious influence of 
this sectary, and the power of his eloquence over the mul- 
titude, are well known. He required money for an act of 
charity, and he addressed himself to a brutal population. 
All at once he was interrupted by sobbings; a man emerged 
from the crowd, and throwincr down before him a dozen 
stones, and some pieces of money, said in his energetic 
language, " Here, take my alms ; I came to break your 
head, and it is you who have broken my heart." 

The two wills of the man are here developed in all their 
energy. The orator awakens the will of the moral being ; 
he goes to seek it amidst the most hostile passions, and 
opposes it to the will of these passions. He effects sud- 
denly, that which education ought to have effected by 
degrees, and with greater advantage to the individual. 
He separates the man from the wild beast; he calls him 
forth, and forces him to signalize his presence by a manly 
action. 

There exist, then, two wills in man : there is only one 
will in animals. Man therefore is alone free upon the 
earth. He alone can struggle with and conquer himself. 
He alone escapes from the fatalities of organization. 

The virtuous man is he in whom the will of the spiritual 
being is stronger than the will of the material being. 

When these two wills are opposed, there is a contest, 
and then, according as the one or the other predominates, 
you will see produced, an Epaminondas or a Caesar, a 
Socrates or a Sylla, a Washington or a Bonaparte — wis- 
dom or ambition, with all their consequences. 

When the will of the soul is the strongest, it makes the 
faculties of the intelligence subservient to its triumph ; and 
"when, on ih^ contrary, the animal will is uppermost, all the 
faculties of the soul are either obliterated or obey it. In 



MEMORY AND WILL. 133 

this latter instance, the soul imparts to the terrestrial pas- 
sions a something of its power and of its greatness. Infinity 
applied to human ambition produces heroes and conquerors. 
All the glories which have not for their object the welfare 
of humanity, originate from this source. 

We have seen that man, reduced to his bodily organiza- 
tion, and to his intelHgence, is a perfect animal, living and 
thinking ; but the purely intellectual being which we have 
separated from him, is neither less perfect, less living, nor 
less thinking, though his thoughts are of another order: 
they constitute the moral being, as the thoughts of the intel- 
ligence constitute the physical being. Intelligence is con- 
stituted in order to feel and to know ; the soul in order to 
reveal and to love. Thus, besides the memory of earthly 
things, there exists the memory of celestial things ; at first, 
obscure and confined like the visions of a dream ; then 
bright and luminous as the first rays of the morning. To 
this memory the senses contribute nothing ; being indepen- 
dent of time and matter, all its recollections are of eternity ; 
it speaks to us of God, always of God, and we believe in 
him without seeing him, without touching or hearing him ; 
and we believe in him intellectually, contrary to our mate- 
rial interests, notwithstanding our terrors, notwithstanding 
our weakness and our crimes. Such are the reminiscences 
of the soul. Leibnitz termed them obscure thoughts; 
Descartes innate thoughts ; Bacon the divine sense. Happy 
memory, which remembers God, and brings him here 
below, in order to adore him ! For, from this faculty pro- 
ceeds the celestial passion which is termed love, and which 
belongs only to man upon the earth. It constitutes our 
greatest power, and perhaps, likewise, our brightest light ; 
the want of a something perfect to love being as a revela- 
tion of our destiny. And in fact, would our soul be capable 
of knowing eternal perfections, if it did not touch by some 
points at eternity ? 

The soul possesses, then, a superior memory, which 
comes to us already impressed with the wonders of a world 
which we do not see, and with the thought of a God who 
is unknown to us ; and we foreknow this God as the earth 
foreknows the rising of the sun when the first glimmerings 
of day gild the mountain tops; then the zephyr blows, the 
bird sings, and the human soul expands amidst these joyful 
presentiments of nature. 



134 MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

UNION OF THE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL AND OF THE INTEL- 
LECTUAL FACULTIES. 

" Nous somraes trop eleves a I'egard de nous memes pour nous coinprendre." 

Saint Augustin. 

" God is a spirit, and those who worship him must worship him in spirit and in 
truth." St. John. 

We are asked how the soul is combined with thouorht, 
we ourselves ask how thought is combined wiih matter, 
and both questions must alike remain without an answer. 
All that we know without comprehending and without 
wishing to explain it, is, that thought is the organ of the 
soul, as the senses are the organs of thought. At the 
summit of the intelligent faculties the soul appears. 

In this temporary amalgamation of two natures, the 
ntelligent being makes itself known only by its relations 
with terrestrial things, and the spiritual being by its im- 
pressions of divine things. Nothing is more decided than 
the attributes of these two beings, the union of which con- 
stitutes man. 

Intelligence knows that there are a world, animals, plants, 
stars, the sun, &c. 

The soul knows that it is immortal, and that God exists. 

Thus the soul teaches us that which without its assist- 
ance the loftiest intellects would never know ; the infinite, 
the beautiful, the moral, the true, is a closed world to them. 
The soul, on the contrary, enlarges the being which it 
possesses ; it dematerializes him ; all which it adds to 
thought is incomprehensible to thought; out of time it 
makes eternity; out of space immensity; out of death, im- 
mortality ; it attaches itself only to the invisible, and reposes 
only in infinity. 

What a distance is there between these conceptions and 
thought ! 

To think is to judge. But animals think, though their 
thoughts stop where the beautiful, the infinite begin. But 




OF MORAL LIBERTY. 135 

there is no beautiful, no infinite for the material being. 
The beautiful exists only for the sublime essence which 
seeks it ; the infinite exists only for the soul which desires 
it. If you could endow the sinallest insect with the sense 
of the beautiful and the infinite, this imperceptible atom 
would comprehend eternity, and would see God, and this 
vision would render it immortal. 



CHAPTER XX. 

OF THE TRUE SOURCE OF VIRTUE. 

/■ 

2* Ah si Satan pouvoit aimer 11 cesseroit d'etre mechant." 
.' Sainte Therese. 

All our first movements are good, generous, heroical; 
reflection weakens and kills them. The soul first speaks, 
and its language is that of love and of virtue. The intel- 
lect afterwards reasons, and its reasoning is always more 
favourable to matter than to the soul. 

Be not surprised if the progress of intellect is so often 
useless for virtue ; nothing is more easily explained, viz. 
that virtue arises from another source. 

In the domain of the intellect all is individual ; in the 
regions of the soul all is sympathy. We see, therefore, 
produced from isolated intellects little else than a cold 
egotism or a sad personality ; whereas the soul covers the 
w^orld with its wings, and feels itself to live only by the 
love of God and of humanity. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

OF MORAL LIBERTY. 

" Le sage seul est libre." Zenon. 

"Etre meilleurs ou pires depend de nous ; tout le reste depend de Dieu." 

JOUBERT. 

The nature of man being double, his moral liberty may 
be inferred. The two powers meet only in order to con- 
tend, and the contest is the proof of the liberty. 



136 OF MORAL LIBERTY. 

Another proof of our .moral liberty, which we have 
already noticed, is the creation ot laws. Man contracts 
the circle of his faculties of his own accord ; he enchains 
the animal within him, in order to give more power to the 
soul:. one would. say that he guesses from his first step in 
life that the soul alone can make him great. 

Man gives laws to iiimself, animals receive them from 
nature ; therefore man can do all that the laws prevent ; 
therefore animals can only do that which nature allows 
them. 

The true life of man begins only with the thought of God, 
and the thought of God alone makes us free. This is the 
reason why inordinate passions and the animal- volitions 
tend to extinguish it. They attack God in all the faculties 
which reveal him ; they render man incapable of compre- 
hending truth and virtue; they degrade him in order to 
master and to possess him. Be not surprised if, circum- 
scribed within the circle of his senses, this man refuses to 
leave it. Whither could he go, and what could he do, when 
he sees nought beyond? and yet a soul is there; but this 
soul sleeps, and with it its will and its liberty. 

Liberty is the power of choosing and of willing. Hence 
liberty without reason is dangerous ; as reason without 
liberty would be useless. 

Man is aKvays free, but he is not always strong enough 
to make good use of his freedom ; strong minds make the 
passions bend, other minds yield to them. Thus man enjoys 
true liberty only in strength and in enlightenment. 

Strength and enlightenment — inseparable elements of all 
wis:dom, power, and happiness ! 

To resist our passions, is to verify the existence in us of 
a will stronger than our passions. This will awakens the 
conscience, for conscience rejoices in its triumph or grieves 
at its fall. This will is enlightened by the sentiment of the 
beautiful and the infinite, for it acts for. an ideal interest, 
which is frequenth^ opposed to the material interest. This 
will is the soul itself; a perfect, pure, and sublime being, 
which may be repulsed, which may be overpowered, but 
which cannot be vilified. Conflict tries it; a fall weakens 
it; repentance revives it ; triumph elevates it; it is; this 
word constitutes all the superiority of man. 

We consider liberty, then, as a sphere in which man ex- 



IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 137 

ercises his power and his two wills. This sphere is more 
or less vast, according to the extent of our intellectual and 
moral faculties. In other words, the circle of our liberty- 
expands in proportion as our enlightenment increases; which 
does not mean that those who are more enlightened are 
necessarily better than those who are less so ; but it simply 
means that they have the power c^ becoming better. 

The man who yields to his passions, obeys a master to 
whom he has given himself up. 

Hence to obey our passions is not to be free ; it is to 
yield to them ; it is to yield to something inferior to our- 
selves. 

Every man who studies himself is great; every man who 
energetically employs his powers is invincible. 

To make oneself a character for wisdom and virtue, is 
to advance freely and resolutely against the torrent of. our 
vices and of our passions ; it is to will and to be able to 
do that which we both can and will. Whence it results 
that the most powerful and free creature in the universe is 
he who knows how to submit to pain in obeying the dic- 
tates of virtue. 



CHAPTER XXII. 



OF THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 

" The kingdom of God is within man." Words of Jesus Christ. 

" D'ou viendrait tant d'orgueil a la poussiere, et tant de pretensions au neant." 

Ancillon sur V ImmortaliU de VAme. 

The preceding meditations have for their object the study 
of man. I wish to know myself; and it is by directing my 
regards upon myself that I arrive on all sides at God. God 
exists, for he has placed within us a witness of his existence. 
He exists, for all the faculties of the soul seek him and find 
him; an immense truth, without any possible refutation. 
In fact, that which one intellect adopts another may deny. 
Logical demonstrations have all their contradictions^, but 
here nO reasonings, no arguments, are admissible ; it is a 
celestial lyre, all the chords of which vibrate for heaven : 
it is a God who manifests himself to the conscience of the 



138 IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 

human race. This is our best title to immortality. God 
has done every thing for mankind, in allowing us to have a 
glimpse of him. Wherefore should he have revealed him- 
self to one who was to cease to know him ? To have 
loved God, and to return to nothingness, is an impossible 
and contradictory thing ; to have contemplated the eternal 
perspectives, and to (iCc^se to be, is an absurd idea. It 
would be to have imagined more than God has created. 

But, would you say, I dare not believe in such a lofty 
destiny for myself. God only gives me the thought of it 
in order to soften the evils of life ; and this thought, were 
it only an illusion, is still the most magnificent of presents. 
What could God owe me further? Well, then, cast your 
eyes around; among so many benefits bestowed, try to dis- 
cover a single deception. The question is, to know what 
has been promised and what has been given ; whether the 
gifts are equal to the wants — whether the enjoyments are 
equal to the desires. Seek an animal that is thirsty, and 
cannot find a fountain ; a plant attached to the earth, to 
which the breath of morn does not brinor refreshing dews ; 
a human thought which cannot be accomplished; a senti- 
ment of love which cannot be realized. God says to each 
intelligence, that which thou conceivest I will give thee, 
and his magnificence is exhibited even in the extreme 
limits of creation. Observe this frail butterfly, its head is 
circled with diamonds, its wings have the variegated 
colours of the rainbow ; for it the zephyr balances the 
flowers, for it the earth is a magnificent banquet, and life 
a radiant morning, all consecrated to pleasure; and yet, 
amidst so many riches, among so many pleasures, no 
voice awakens its gratitude, nothing occupies it beyond 
its appetites, nothing disturbs it beyond its horizon ; it lives, 
enjoys, and dies; and its destiny is then fulfilled. What, 
the fly has not been deceived, and shall man be so ? 
Would there be in us a sentiment without an object? an 
anxiety about a heavenly life without any necessity 1 de- 
sires without fulfilment 1 an eternal foresight without a 
futurity ? the penalty of annihilation, in the presence of an 
immortality promised and refused ? promised because it is 
exhibited to us. 

But pain ! but death ! Thou complainest of death, as if 
thou didst not carry within thyself the sentiment which 



IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 139 

triumphs over it ; as if it did not open to thee the gates of 
eternity. Alas, great lessons are not spared us, they are 
mixed up with the lives of all men. God sends us pleasure 
as a celestial messenger to invite us to come to him ; and 
misfortune as a severe master to force us. But a few days 
ago I saw a child die — the sole thought of its mother ; 
with what anxiety did she not look fur life in its eyes, 
which were closing for ever. I still hear her lamentations; 
I still see her sorrowing countenance. All consolation was 
destroyed by the words — he is no more! All at once her 
soul becomes elevated ; a celestial joy beams in her eyes ; 
she invokes the name of God— she remembers his promises 
— an immortal sentiment restores to her all that she has 
lost. This inconsolable mother, who would hear nothing, 
is now consoled by the inspirations of infinity ; it is no 
longer on earth, it is in heaven, that she contemplates her 
child. 

Ah, if she were never to see it again, what a horrid 
mockery ! Will God be wanting in power or in justice? 
Would there be magnificence and truth in the instinctive 
life of the fly ? artifice and falsehood in the moral and reli- 
gious life of man t virtue persecuted on the earth, and turn- 
ing its regards towards heaven? the devotedness to one's 
country and to the human race? the heroism which looks 
for nothing here below ? all the sacrifices made to duty, 
with the sole aim of pleasing God ? Would these be only 
the mistakes of humanity? Thy soul, O Socrates! would 
have experienced thoughts more vast than the creation. 
Thou, the friend of truth, wouldst have died for a lie. Would 
God have deceived Socrates? Could the created being be 
more magnificent than his Creator ? 

No, no ! to those who invoke him, to the human race 
which acknowledges him, Providence does not respond by 
a sentence of eternal death. It is not on the tombs that his 
answer is inscribed ; it is in our own souls, whence escapes 
the sublime cry — God — eternity ! 

When man casts his eyes around him, what does he see ? 
the creation which on all sides raises itself up to him ; and 
when he restricts his regards to himself; when he studies 
and contemplates himself, what does he find, beyond his 
terrestrial passions? An instinctive sentiment of infinity, a 
conscience which tends to ideal perfection, a reason, the 



140 SOURCE OF GENIUS AND VIRTUE. 



1 



light of which extends up to heaven ; in fact, a soul, all the 
faculties of which radiate towards God. Mysterious intui- 
tion of the Divinity which announces to us another existence 
as surely as the senses reveal to us the actual world. 
The kingdonn of God is within man.* 



a 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

OF THE SOURCE OF GENIUS AND VIRTUE. 

" Ceux qui n'exercent point leur ame sont incapables des belles oeuvres de 
I'ame." Xenophon. 

" Si vous voulez concevoir ce qui est divin c'est le sens divin qu'il vous faut." 

CElenschlager, 

The elenaents of man's essence being known, his exist- 
ence — his greatness — his passions — his contradictions, all 
are explained. Man is a soul united, not to a body, not to a 
corpse, as Maxime de Tyr says, but to a living and intelli- 
gent animal, which itself is endowed with all the instincts 
and all the passions of other animals. They are two beings 
of an opposite nature, which form but one being ; two 
thoughts — two interests — two wills, which dispute with each 
other the sovereignty : such is man. The soul and the body 
itiay be likened to the rider and the horse, which are united 
together for a single course; they start forth, contest, press 
close to each other, passing from victory to defeat, and from 
defeat to victory, till the moment when the exhausted ani- 
mal falls expiring in the arena. It dies ; the freed rider 
scarcely bestows a last look upon it; and, all panting with 
the lengthened conflict, finds himself in the presence of the 
master who is to reward or punish him. 

In our modern educations, all the care, all the foresight 
are for the horse ; to him belong the boldness — the strength ; 
to him the glory and ambition. In order that he may start 
brilliantly in his career, that he should be intoxicated with 
the applause of the multitude, his passions are awakened, 
his intelligence is enlarged ; time and matter are his. But the 
rider ! who thinks of instructing him 1 What lessons has he 
received to guide him in the arena ? How can he find himself 

* " Neither shall they say, Lo, here, or lo, there, for behold the kingdom of 
God is within you." St. John xvii. 21. 



SOURCEOF GENIUS AND V IHTV IS. 141 

prepared for the struggle ? Who will give him the will and 
ihe courage? We train up an animal to the exercises of 
horsemanship ; we develope his intelligence, we enrich his 
memory, we fertihze his talents — his passions — his vices, 
and then we proudly contemplate our work, believing that 
we have completed the education of a man. 

Do you now understand why the soul has so little con- 
trol over the body? why its contests are so feeble? its 
resistance so slight? and, consequently, why there exist so 
little morality, so little religion, conscience, and virtue, in 
the world? We must have professors to study a flea, to 
classify a gnat, to distinguish a cat from a rose-tree ; but 
man, this sublime and hidden being, which it is important 
for us to instruct and to know — where is he taught? In 
what college — in what institution — do you see any one oc- 
cupied in developing in him the sense of the sublime and 
beautiful — the moral sense — the sense of infinity ? or reason 
or conscience? these noble faculties which unite him to 
God. 

And yet, herein lies the whole strength of man ; his in- 
telligence merely places him at the head of animals ; his soul 
separates him from them, by calling him to duty. Let him 
congregate families, assemble people together, build towns, 
it is but the work of ants and bees ; but let him establish 
laws, let him cause justice to reign, this will be the work 
of man. 

Let us elevate men, then, if we would see in our cities 
something else than human ants. One truth of which we 
must be convinced before all others, is, that the develope- 
ment of the faculties of the soul is the sole and universal 
source of all our superiority ; we owe to it both the chefs- 
d'asuvre of genius, the advantages of virtue, and all the 
noblest works of the human race. To the moral sense we 
are indebted for Bayard, L'Hopital, Socrates, and Fenelon. 
To the sense of the beautiful, Homer, Corneille, Shakspeare, 
La Fontaine, Moliere, Lamartine. To the sense of the 
infinite, Plato and Descartes, Kant and Newton. It is our 
union with God which makes us great. To separate our- 
selves from God, — and all our modern educations do sepa- 
rate us from him, — is to deprive ourselves at once of genius, 
virtue and immortality. 

Do but observe the influence of the faculties of the soul 



142 SOURCE OF GENIUS AND VIRTUE. 

over the works of the painter and of the sculptor. A mnn " 
may be a good colourer, draw well, and compose a picture, 
and yet not rise above mediocrity. You copy a model, you 
give it physical beaut}^ colouring, and attitude ; it will be 
a work of the hand, of the intelligence, but only an inani- 
mate work, if you do not impress it with soul. Raise, 
then, thy soul, artist! let me feel its breath, let me expe- 
rience its inspiration; an immortal cause can alone produce 
immortality. 

We possess this double power of embellishing in our 
imagination all the objects of nature, and of communica- 
ting to our own works that ideal and moral beauty which 
comes from the soul. Genius does not paint as it sees out- 
wardly, it expresses what it sees inwardly. The sense of 
the beautiful is the light of the mind. 

I enter the museum, and I select a picture, the material 
execution of which is admirable — the swearing of the 
Horatii by David. I recognise in it the purity of the 
forms, the study of antiquity, the knowiedge of the drama ; 
there is somethinoj enercretical in the attitude of these 
three warriors, their gesture is an oath, they swear to fight, 
but for what? Here the work of the intelligence stops 
short; the painter has made a fine picture, but no voice 
emanates from this canvass; my admiration is limited to 
the beauty of the lines and the purity of the design, but 
nothing awakens in me the love of country. The father 
who presents the swords might be considered but a drunken 
man ; the three young men who listen, only vulgar 
warriors. I do not hear that energetic cry which responds 
to the call of Rome; I do not see the assurance of victory 
which radiates from the brow of heroes ; all these heads 
are mute; and yet, among these warriors, there is a con- 
queror, a noble conqueror, who will become a cruel mur- 
derer. Where is this Roman, so eager for the honour of 
Rome ; who, in his enthusiasm, sacrifices his sister to her? 
show him to me; give him a soul at once sublime and 
ferocious, or lay aside your pencil. I do not want the work 
of an intelligence; you owed me a page of the history of 
the world, and you give me the doings of a great workman. 
To these passions altogether physical, to this purely mate- 
rial picture, let us oppose one of those rare chefs d'ceiivre 



SOURCE OF GENIUS AND VIRTUE. 143 

which derive life and immortality from the soul of the 
artist. 

A few years ago, during a journey in Italy, after having 
visited the galleries of Venice, Bologna, and Florence, I 
arrived at Milan, where I expected to admire the Swpper of 
Leonardo da Vinci. This composition", cast as if by chance 
upon the wall of a refectory, was in ruins. At the time of 
the wars of the republic, the refectory was successively 
turned into stables and barracks ; considerable dilapidations 
were the consequence, and the picture, half effaced but still 
existing, was no more than a sort of apparition, reminding 
one of those shadows in Milton's Paradise, of which the 
scarcely-perceptible forms seem always ready to vanish. 
It required some time for me to recognise it, but by de- 
grees my eyes became accustomed to this vision, I caught 
the lines, I distinguished the figures, and the whole work 
became visible. What a subject ! and what a painter! All 
the human passions put in motion by a divine passion! 
the fear, the surprise, the treachery, the indignation in t!ie 
apostles, the pity and mercy in the look of the Saviour; 
one disciple only, with his head bowed down, expresses 
grief; this one is the well-beloved; he does not protest, 
he grieves, and his grief is love. All these things are 
visible in this obliterated picture; or, so to speak, the 
physical picture is destroyed, but its soul exists, and sur- 
vives matter; and in these remnants of a sublime work I 
read the thought of each figure, I recognise the sentiments 
of each individual, I hear the Gospel, I see the disciples, I 
adore the God. 

It would be difficult to find a more striking example of 
the influence of the soul over the arts ; it is a lesson to 
artists. Enrich your memory, exercise your hand, deve- 
lope your intelligence ; these are purely animal operations. 
If you do not draw from the vivifying source of the beau- 
tiful, of the infinite, and of conscience, you will produce 
nothing; one only attains to excellence by the paths of 
virtue. 

A sublime principle, of which the finest developement 
belongs to Socrates; Cato reproduced it in defining an 
orator a good man, skilful in the art of speaking. Thus 
the sage of Greece and the sage of Rome attributed genius, 
not to the workings of thought, but to the beauty of the 



144 SOURCE OF GENIUS AND VIRTUE. 

soul. Both said, the source of eloquence is virtue; and by 
virtue they understood the sentiment of our duty towards 
the gods and men. 

The forgetfulness of this principle has precipitated us 
into chaos. Man has mistaken, for the highest part of 
himself, that which is but the evidence of a superior ani- 
mality. What has been the consequence? an eager and 
learned youth has risen up on all sides. Each personality 
has constituted itself a centre ; for intellect, far from uniting 
men, divides them. Each comes with his particular rea- 
sonings ; no one with the sentiment of truth : and if, 
amidst this anarchy, the soul do not resume its empire, we 
shall see nothing else than opinions without morality, and 
ambition without restraint. It is the property of intellect, 
when abandoned to itself, to destroy society, while in- 
creasing the enjoyments of civilization. 

The causes of our falling off are sought for in the doc- 
trines of the philosophers; but the doctrines of phi- 
losophers are, themselves, only the result of our modes 
of education. You reduce man to his intellect, and his 
intellect yields its fruits. Observe what is become of 
our literature; inquire of it what it will have, and to what 
it tends. You will hear cries of liberty ! one would say a 
people was in insurrection; it likewise has kings to de- 
throne. But, in fact, what are its works ? What have we 
substituted for the heroical literature of Pericles, of Augus- 
tus, and of Louis XIV. Have we, then, approached nearer 
to nature ? Have we searched deeper in the recesses of the 
human heart? Have we been made more pure, more true, 
or more enthusiastic ? No. For a worn-out circle we have 
substituted a narrow circle ; for a" literature of convention, 
a superficial literature ; for rules, license. We have erased 
from our poetry, sentiment, heroism, and even French 
character. We are no longer poets ; we are no longer 
lovers; we no longer imagine; we paint, it is the talent 
of David transported into speech. Our writers wish to 
speak to the eyes; and they only represent of man the 
body and the animal passions — those passions of which 
satiety is the end. Open the newest works, study this 
literature, which certainly is not wanting either in raciness 
or talent, but which has lost its regenerating mission, by 
plunging into matter. Hideous figures surround you, 



SOURCE OF GENIUS AND VIRTUE. 145 

frightful dramas oppress yon ; you are in a fantastic world 
a prey to tortures and executioners. Not one look towards 
heaven, not one sentiment for the heart. To see all these 
human forms which crime puts into motion would remind 
you of the Alberic of Dante walking the streets of Genoa, 
when his soul had already descended to hell. It is no 
longer life, neither is it death ; it is a corpse animated by 
a demon. Such is the type of our literary creations, the 
heroes of our dramas and our fictions; one would say that 
the aim of art is only to produce terror and disgust. But 
we copy nature; but we exhibit the age and humanity. 
Man is the subject of our works ! Yes, man as an animal, 
but man as a religious being, purifying his passions by the 
sense of infinity, I seek in vain for any such in your 
works, and yet therein alone is the pathetic ; therein only 
are truth and immortality. Oh, you have not lied to the 
world, divine Richardson, virtuous Bernardin de Saint- 
Pierre, eloquent Rousseau 1 you have not lied to the world, 
in depicting the charms of modesty, and the sublime con- 
flicts of virtue ! and shall the source of such delicious tears 
be dried up for ever'? Does there not exist in the universe 
a single holy emotion — a single generous sentiment ? This 
earth, so vast — this civilization, so much boasted of, — do 
they offer for our contemplations nothing but the scenes of 
the charnel-house, and the pathetics of the scaffold ? 

Such we must say, are works of pure intellect. All their 
effects are physical : the body shudders, the senses are dis- 
turbed; but the eye remains dry, the heart barren; nothing 
goes to the soul, because nothing comes from it. That 
which should be taught, therefore, to philosophers, to artists, 
to poets; that which must be especially taught to mothers, 
for it is they who form great men, is the knowledge of the 
soul, the art of awakening its faculties, and of separating 
them from the animal faculties. A truly human science, 
since its aim is to restore man to his true rank, from 
whence all our methods of education tend to make him 
descend. 

Cause him to know that which elevates and that which 
debases ; show him the degradation of those material habits 
which fetter thought ; of those brutal passions which cir- 
cumscribe and destroy it ; show him especially the glory 
and the happiness which result from the developement of 

10 



146 DEVELOPEMENT OP THE SENSE 

his most sublime faculties, — the sense of the beautiful, and 
the love of truth. To possess the fury of the tiger, the 
courage of the lion, the devotedness of the dog, is but to 
live the life of all the animals; the life of the man begins 
only with the sentiment of the divinity. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

DEVELOPEMENT OF THE SENSE OF THE GREAT AND BEAUTIFUL 
BY THE STUDY OF GREAT MODELS. 

" Donnons a I'empire des femmes une sublime direction, que cette puissance 
enchanteresse dont elles disposent recoive de nos propres mains une impulsion 
salutaire vers les grandes et les belles choses, et qu'elles nous guident ensuite 
elles memes vers cetle amelioration morale si inulileraent cherchee par les philoso- 
phes." Raymond, Essai sur V Emulation. 

A PHENOMENON takcs placc in the intellectual world 
which it appears to us has not been sufficiently considered, 
viz. the fall of all that is false, and the triumph of all that is 
true. Whatever may be the enthusiasm with which evil is 
received, and the indifference to the good, the termination 
is inevitable, the great of every kind must always regain its 
place, which is ihe first in nature as well as the first in the 
human soul. 

This is the reason why the soul in its transports, that is 
to say, in its highest aspirations, harmonizes with nature in 
her most ideal perfections. The consequence is that cliefs- 
d^ceuvre of every kind alone survive. 

Universal consciousness, stronger than all the bad pas- 
sions which a vitiated taste engenders, marks with a fatal 
stroke in human works that which is to live, and that which 
is to be forgotten. The grand never dies; the indifferent 
(mediocre) never lives; and this immense selection, this 
work of every day, performed by the hand of time beneath 
the influence of great souls, is not liable to oblivion and 
error. Thus Homer, Plato, Sophocles, Euripides, have 
come down to us through the dust of ages, with the ap- 
pearance of an eternal freshness. Thus Tasso, Milton, 
Shakspeare, Moliere, Corneille, Racine, Fenelon, form, with 
the geniuses of Greece and Rome, the magnetic chain which 
unites the past to the present, and which likewise carries the 
present into the future. By the Iliad we are linked with 



OP THE GREAT AND BEAUTIFUL. 147 

the heroic ages ; with the earUest periods of the world by 
the Old Testament ; and by the New Testament with the 
futurity of the human race. 

There is then in the works of man a something immu- 
table, which partakes of eternal beauty, and which con- 
stantly escapes from all the revolutions of thought. To 
verify this phenomenon, is to reply beforehand to those who 
might be tempted to make exceptions to the great models, 
that is to say, the works of all kinds which have descended 
to us amidst the admiration of men, and with the consent of 
ages. We should there find the source of a multitude of 
delightful sentiments, and of the exquisite taste which origi- 
nates from the knowledge of the beautiful and of the con- 
sciousness of our morality. 

The education of women is so superficial, they are so 
little accustomed to serious thoughts, that all reading, I do 
not say of instruction, but of meditation, becomes insup- 
portable to them. This painful impression is difficult to 
overcome. The soul having been long silent, seems to re- 
venge itself by disgust for the obUvion in which it has been 
left. But when surmounting its first repugnance you pursue 
the studies wiiich awaken and appeal to it, with what 
transport does it not respond to the call ! what an abun- 
dance of enjoyment does it not yield ! All the thoughts of 
the most lofty minds become your thoughts ; you penetrate 
with them into the treasures of the beautiful and the infinite 
which they have disclosed, and which without their inspira- 
tions would have been for ever hidden from you. You feel 
yourself strong by their strength, virtuous by their virtue, 
pious by their piety; they transport you, ordinary beings, 
with the emotion of great souls, and in these delightful 
studies of intellect and sentiment it is permitted to you to 
live at the same time with the thoughts of Homer and Tasso, 
of Fenelon and Socrates, Montesquieu and Descartes ; to 
see nature with the eyes of Linneus, and the greatness of 
God with the eyes of Newton. 

This power of illuminating our souls by the light of the 
greatest minds, superadding them to our own, if we may so 
speak, is one of the transcendental laws of our nature ; it 
causes the age which is passing not to pass uselessly for the 
age which is coming ; it constitutes our perfectibiUty. And 
further, it estabUshes the only equality which is possible 



148 SENSE or THE GREAT AND BEAUTIFUL. 

between the intellects ; for, not being able to raise us up 
either to inspiration or to invention, — which are privileges 
of the few, — it bestows upon us the enjoyment, the admira- 
tion, and the possession of them. In these delightful studies 
we borrow from genius all that genius receives from nature. 
If, unfortunately, all these divine voices should leave your 
soul languid and listless, do not be discouraged : above all, 
do not condemn these magnificent works, because they only 
cause you fatigue or ennui. One thing of which it is indis- 
pensable you should be convinced, is, that the weakness is 
in yourselves, not in them. Persevere, make efforts to feel 
and to appreciate them ; the greater the aptitude which you 
possess, the more you will approach perfection : and your 
love for these divine models will become the measure of 
your intelligence and progress. Then only will you feel 
the justness of that verse of Boileau, an eternal epigraph of 
all that is good and great in the arts and in literature — 

" C'est avoir profile que de savoir s'y plaire." 

To take pleasure in the perusal of good models, to perse- 
vere in their study, is to give to oneself that which all the 
treasures of the world cannot give us — delicacy of taste, 
peace of mind, contentment, and the joys of a pure con- 
science ; for the knowledge of the beautiful always leads 
us to the enjoyment of virtue. ' Let us, then, conclude this 
chapter as we commenced it, by saying that knowledge 
and eloquence are a divine harmony, and that all that is 
most elevated in our souls unceasingly responds to all that 
is most elevated in nature. 



INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL FACULTIES. 149 



CHAPTER XXV. 

OF THE HARMONY BETWEEN THE INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL 

FACULTIES. 

" Ainsi sont exclus de la nouvelle science les stoiciens qui veulent la mort des 
sens, et les epicuriens qui font des sens la regie de rhomme." 

Vico. Science Nouvelle. 

" L'homme n'est ni ange ni bete ; et le malheur est, que qui veut faire I'ange, 
fait la bete." Pascal. 

At the first glance there is something alarming in the 
part which nature accords to matter. Foresight, intelli- 
gence, animal volition, all the instincts, all the passions, 
appertain to it. Animals think, remember, will, love, hate ; 
but these faculties have no other aim than the conservation 
of the species. Matter, being satiated, sleeps or rests; 
man still desires, always desires ; his passions are without 
repose; after the satisfactions derived from earth, they 
dream of satisfactions from heaven. There is, then, in 
man something else than matter, an infinity which aspires 
to eternity. 

The principles being thus defined, the alarm-ceases, for 
the noblest part belongs to the soul. The soul is the 
delight in good, it is the virtuous, the immortal being. 
What animal passion, what earthly pleasure can we regret 
in the contemplations of the beau ideal, and of the infinite'? 
And yet we must be careful not to disunite on earth these 
two halves of our being. Death alone has this right : it 
kills the animal in order to set the god free ; but man 
cannot destroy the one nor the other without disturbing the 
well-being of the world. If he attempt to make himself an 
angel, his animal passions draw him forcibly back earth- 
wards ; if he attempt to become an animal, his celestial 
passions torment him with remorse. He is not free to alter 
his nature, but only to regulate it. Whenever he abandons 
the rule, he mistakes his position : he is no longer any thing, 
for he cannot attain, in the two extremes, either to the 



150 or THE HARMONY BETWEEN THE 

perfection of a god, nor to the usefulness of a beast, and he 
will have ceased to be a nnan. 

Education ought to apply itself to develope sin^ulta- 
neously these two halves of our being ; it is applied, on the 
contrary, to separate them. This is the cause of all the 
evils which afflict humanity. What do we see in the world 1 
intellects which strive to acquire fortune. People will have 
gold in order to have pleasures ; this is all that is desired; 
they are taught only for this object; it is the avowed aim 
of our studies and of our labours ; all comes fo this point ; 
even the transcendental speculations of science, and the 
science which does not tend to attain it is despised. On 
seeing the use which we make of thought, would it not 
seem to be bestowed upon us merely to gratify in a splendid 
manner the animal appetites? 

Man then forgets even his God ; for the animal passions, 
when they are dominant, stifle the thought of God ; and, as 
we have already said, they render us incapable of compre- 
hending truth and virtue. But amidst this crowd of men, 
powerful by their intellect, there exist some individuals, 
whose sole thought is to free themselves from their senses; 
they would live only the life of the soul. These men are 
likewise in a false position ; for they live upon the earth. 
Observe how they make imbecility and suflTering a religious 
precept, attacking the body by fastings and mortifications, 
attacking the mind by insensate beliefs, forcing it to believe 
that which is absurd, and demolishing the temple in which 
God himself has willed that he should be adored. 

Thus, some condemn themselves to live as if they had 
no soul ; others, as if they had no body. Useless efforts ! 
it results from them, that in the former a great develope- 
ment of the intellect takes place without principles, and in 
the latter, a great developement, not of the faculties of the 
soul, (for they reject reason,) but of the sense of infinity, 
without intellect. Every where man is the victim of an 
error which arises from pride ; every where man is found 
to be incomplete. 

The perfect and complete man is he who maintains the 
harmony between the two principles of his being, who 
accepts his position upon the earth on the conditions which 
God imposes upon us, leaving the plant free, and far from 



INTELLECTUAL AND MORAL FACULTIES. 151 

killing the animal passions, regulates and deifies them by 
the sense of the beautiful, by reason and conscience. 

He feels that he loses the most subhme part of himself 
if he attach himself only to the things of earth. He feels, 
also, that in a world altogether material, the despising of 
matter could not be a perfection. We are condemned to 
live with a body, because all is substance around us. If 
man attenuate himself by discipline and fasting, still a 
skeleton of him must remain ; and in this labour against a 
part of himself, it is not an angel which he developes, it is 
the harmony of a world which he falsifies or destroys. 

And again, if the one or the other of these theories pro- 
cured the happiness which they appear to promise ; but they 
produce nothing but degradation and death ; and this truth, 
already sufficiently striking in the annals of convents, 
becomes a luminous truth in the annals of nations, — man 
can only he enslaved by being made incomplete. The most 
opposite despotisms, the religious and the philosophical 
despotism, have no other origin than this — they divide the 
work of God in order to debase it, and they debase it in 
order to rule over it. Observe what takes place in India 
and in China, the ancient cradles of these two kinds of 
despotism. In India the Brahmins devote to contempt the 
material man, his intelligence, his science, and even his 
reason ; stifling the lights which would guide him, exalting 
the superstitions which degrade him, leaving only all- 
powerful in the soul the sentiment of infinity, and by the 
light of this devouring flame precipitating an entire people 
of martyrs into the sacred waters of the Ganges, or beneath 
the bloody wheels of the car of Jaggernaut. 

In China, on the other hand, it is the faculties of the soul 
which they extinguish, and those of the animal which are 
favoured. There, no sentiment of infinity exists ; the soul 
is walled in like the nation. All the sciences are without 
progress, all the arts without movement, all the operations 
of the mind without ideality. Three thousand years ago, 
the thoughts of the Chinese came to a stop, and an immense 
people became as if automatized beneath the influence of its 
terrestrial doctrines. 

Given up to pleasure, they remain beneath the yoke of 
their tyrants, who surround them with keepers, enclose them 
within walls, watch over their safety, provide for their 



152 WHAT CONSTITUTES INTELLECT 

wants, and without caring for their souls, encourage even 
the depravation of their manners. 

Nothing is more admirable than the regulations of the 
Chinese police, when the object is the cleanliness of the 
towns, the perfection of agriculture, the abundance of the 
markets, or the developement of industry. Thus the me- 
chanical part of the sciences and the arts is carried even 
to a prodigy of perfection. But by the side of this material 
order, the most hideous vices are publicly practised. There, 
slavery is in honour; women area merchandise; fathers 
sell their children, and infanticide, consecrated by custom, 
is abominably protected by the magistrates. 

In order to render this nation moral, to tear it from its 
depravations, what is required? To awaken its soul, which 
has slumbered for thirty centuries. Give to China the senti- 
ment of infinity which consumes the Indian ; to the Indian, 
the industrious intelligence which materializes the Chinese ; 
you will render man more complete. You will resuscitate 
these nations to reason and truth ; you will restore them to 
the human race. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

WHAT CONSTITUTES INTELLECT SEPARATED FROM THE SOUL. 

" lis sentent leur neant sai?s le connaitre." 

PAfeCAL. 

Thus, human intelligence extends to all things which are 
on the earth ; the soul only appears there by the sentiment 
of the beautiful, the good, the true, and the infinite. It is 
intellect which calculates the shape of a sail, and the form 
of a ship ; which divides even the sun's rays and the invi- 
sible air into different elements : it creates the chemist, the 
naturalist, the geometrician, the astronomer ; it does more, 
it communicates to brute matter those sublime sciences 
which measure time and space; it causes them to emanate 
from some ingenious wheel-work, just as nature causes 
them to emanate from thought. Pascal constructed a 
machine which executed the most complicated rules of 
arithmetic. Babbage increased the power of this machine ; 



SEPARATED FROM THE SOUL. 153 

he made of it a geometrician, an astronomer ; he submitted 
sums to its calculation, and the astonished world now sees 
produced from a mechanical instrument the same learned 
formulae which occupy the intellectual sphere of the Aragos 
and of the Poissons. 

The operation of intellect, when continual and without 
the presence of God, dries up and exhausts the soul. 

Because intellect controls the elements, fabricates our 
arms, fertilizes our lands, embellishes our cities, causes our 
vessels to skim the ocean ; because it attaches steam to our 
carriages, hydrogen gas to our balloons ; because it lodges, 
clothes, feeds, and enriches us, we have supposed that it 
was every thing ; yes, if man merely belonged to earth, it 
would suffice him to possess, to develope all the germs of 
earthly power and pleasure which are in him. Master of 
the elements, passing from one pleasure to another, he 
might at least satiate himself; but suppose him to know all; 
flatter his passions, satisfy his desires, give him a world: 
he will still lament, and hke a child will complain of the- 
limits of his empire. 

All may become obliterated, or deceive us in thought : 
sensation has its deceptions, memory its forgetfulness, in- 
tellect its illusions and its prejudices ; and yet this is the 
power with which we try to create and to comprehend 
every thing. Like the wonderful pillar which guided the 
Israehtes in the desert, so long as it advances it presents 
its brightness to us, but as soon as it stops we see only its 
dark side. 

The soul, on the contrary, — I mean the complete soul, — 
always appears in the light: all with which it inspires us 
is immortal, and partakes of its nature. Thus the senti- 
ment of the beautiful presents to us models of all things so 
perfect, that intellect which sees them, and which seeks to 
imitate them, despairs of so doing, and feels its inability to 
equal them. Thus, in its generous transports, the moral 
sense exacts those magnanimous sacrifices which stir up 
the vulgar, and for which great souls deserve the gratitude 
of the human race. It is the same with reason, before 
which all errors disappear, and also with the sentiment of 
infinity, the light of which loses itself in heaven. Whilst 
intellect wanders amidst the illusions of this material life, 
the soul sets it right by the contemplations of another hfe ; 



154 DANGER OP SEPARATING THE FACULTIES, ETC. 

it manifests itself in the wonders of the invisible, by the 
astounding convictions, of which the living source is in 
itself. 

In fine, the testimony of intellect is a vision of the order 
of earthly things ; the testimony of the soul is a revelation 
of the invisible world, of eternity and God. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

OP THE DANGER OF SEPARATING THE FACULTIES OF THE SOUL. 

/ " La vertu d'un homme ne doit pas se raesnrer sur ses efTorts, mais sur ce qu'il 
\fait d'ordinaire." Pascal. 

We may conclude, from all that has preceded, that the 
faculties of the intellect, and the faculties of the soul, should 
be developed simultaneously, and, so to speak, by the same 
impulse : to separate them is to destroy the man. 

But a still greater peril is that of dividing the faculties 
of the soul ; that is to say, of isolating the one from the 
others. The soul is a whole, a sun which has its rays ; 
when divided by the prism, the rays of the sun permit us 
to see only particular colours, but when united they conf- 
stitute light. 

For instance, separate in your mind the sentiment of the 
grand and beautiful, and the sentiment of infinity from 
the other faculties of the soul which illuminate them ; the 
former, isolated from reason and conscience, will go to 
expand itself in an endless license, or in a measureless am- 
bition : the latter will hght up funeral piles, lay waste the 
world, or concentrate its desires in money-bags. Thus, 
Lovelace, St. Dominick, Richelieu, Bonaparte, Harpagon, 
represent all the excesses of the sentiment of the beautiful 
and of infinity, isolated from the moral sentiment, from 
reason and conscience. In these powerful but incomplete 
organizations, I see merely a wandering ray of the soul, 
which lends its energy to earthly passions. 

The faculties of the soul, when separately developed, are 
like the luminous rays which, in the experiment of Fresnel, 
meet, are extinguished, and produce darkness ! 



OF THE SOUL OF NATIONS. 155 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

OF THE SOUL OF NATIONS. 

" Tant il est a craindre en fortifiant les liens d'une societe de forcer ceux de la 
nature." '' Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. 

" Le triomphe de la lumiere a toujours ete favorable a la grandeur et a I'ame- 
lioration de i'espece humaine." Madame de Stael. 

Of all human infirmities the saddest is the slumber of the 
soul. How many men pass by on the earth without its ever 
awaking ! 

The multitude which bears the toil of the day, and whose 
whole faculties are concentrated in this one thought — work 
and food. 

The red, blue, green, or orange-coloured automata, 
who march at the sound of the drum, place themselves in 
rank, fight without anger, and kill without hatred or re- 
morse. 

The man who goes to bed at night, rises in the morning, 
dresses, transacts business, breakfasts, dines, and digests, 
without any other thought. 

Here is animal intelligence — matter in motion. 

I should like to know exactly the number of the ideas of 
this crowd which every morning goes forth from its houses, 
fills the streets, encumbers the public squares, rolls on, hur- 
ries itself, and silently disappears in the first hours of the 
night. 

A mass with a hundred thousand heads, which, interro- 
gated without reference to its passions, expresses only the 
most noble sentiments, the purest taste, the most generous 
inclinations, which admires Socrates and curses Anytus; 
but of which, by a singular contrast, each member taken 
separately, — a sort of animal with a human face, — seems 
to have eyes in order not to see, ears not to hear, an intel- 
lect not to think ; and with all this, a soul engulfed in matter. 

I ask myself why so few truths have penetrated into the 
conscience, I do not say of a barbarous, but of a civilized 
people ? 



156 OF THE SOUL OP NATIONS. 

Why the entire mass of the human race, with some ex^ 
ceptions, lives enchained in its routines, as if it were re- 
duced to instinct ? 

To these facts history responds by the most astonishing 
of phenomena. On this globe, the soul of which slumbers, 
I see sages appear here and there, like torches, the light of 
which awakens nations. 

And the nations receive each the thoughts of a man or 
of a God — Moses, Confucius, Boudah, Mahomet, Socrates, 
Jesus Christ : a thinking head : a moral head of the human 
race. 

They reign over the earth, which they have partitioned 
among them, in giving a soul to each people. This in- 
fluence is so general, that one would be inclined to take it 
for a law of nature. The moral thoughts of genius become 
as the instinct of nations, and nations become great in pro- 
portion to the genius of their legislator. Hence the pro- 
digies performed by Sparta, Athens, and Rome. 

The soul of their great men lived in the crowd, so that 
the crowd taken in the mass felt all the sentiments of a 
great man. 

In the middle ages, and even up to our own times, an 
immense corporation cast its nets over the civilized world ; 
it was no longer a great man, it was the Church, which was 
the soul of the West. 

The ideas of Brahma and of Mahomet continued to cir- 
cumscribe the East. 

All the legislations, all the ancient theocracies, being dead, 
the human race lived only through these three souls. 

Hostile souls, which divided the people, fettered their in- 
telligence, and fanaticised them in the prejudices and the 
crimes of a conventional morality. 

At the present day, the social transfiguration is being 
effected : ideas are multiplied, and nations become more 
intelligent ; but in proportion as the number of their ideas 
increases, they detach themselves from religious and pater- 
nal traditions ; faith leaves them, and the soul of ther legis- 
lators abandons them. 

A terrible revolution! the greatest which has yet agitated 
this world, for it tends to give the people up to the madness 
of their intellect; but it likewise tends to destroy their isola- 
tion, by destroying the religious authorities which separate 



INFLUENCE OF THE PRESS. 157 

them. In its powerful march it must some day unite the 
nations, these scattered limbs of the human race, and give 
to them all a single moral code, taken from the laws of 
nature — and a single soul, drawn from the verv bosom of 
God. . 

This revolution has already began in Europe, where there 
will shortly be only a single people, divided into different 
states, kingdoms, or republics, which will all tend towards 
the same Uberty, beneath the general law of the Gospel. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

PROGRESS. 

" Le probleme pour la presse comme pour la societe entiere est ceci : desarmer 
la mediocrile, ses passions jalouses et ses haines antisociales, en laissant au talent 
son libre essor pour arriver au faite, et dire comme Jean XXII. en se redressant: 
' Me voici, c'est moi qui regnerai sur vous.' " Salvandy. 

"Si je vous parte fbrtement n'en soyez pas etonne, c'est que'la verite est libre 
et forte." Fenelon, Lettre a Louis XI V. 

There is a book, the pages of which are printed in all 
languages, the living picture of the world, in which the most 
lofty thoughts, the most serious questions, political, religious, 
of glory and liberty, of peace, war, finances, or justice, are 
discussed freely and impartially, and are delivered fresh 
with the interest of the day, to the knowledge of the grand 
jury of nations. 

Ephemeral pages, works without end, which every even- 
ing sees die, and every morning sees revive, always richer, 
always more powerful, adding the thought of to-day to 
the thought of yesterday, expanding intellects, awakening 
the masses, and perpetually calling to them — forward, 
forward ! Pass your eyes over these sheets, still w^et from 
the press ; — you are at Constantinople, at Ispahan, at 
Moscow, at London, at Paris. Here is Europe, where 
kings fall for want of morality. Here Asia, where nations 
die for want of intelligence. There America, with its cities 
and its deserts, presenting the twofold spectacle of civilized 
and wild liberty. You read day by day, hour by hour, all 
the events of the world : here a battle, a siege, a treaty ; 
there a congress of princes, or the energetic discussions of 
a popular assembly. No more secret councils, no more ob- 



158 INFLUENCE OP THE PRESS. 

scure diplomacy, no more hypocritical machinations. The 
cabinets of kings are exposed ; the eyes of the people pene- 
trate into them, and truth springs up on all sides. An im- 
mense picture of human thought ! an eternal conflict between 
mind and matter, in which you every where perceive the 
progress of civilization, and the human race proceeding in 
detail to death, and in the mass to liberty. 

This book profits by all lights, enriches itself by every 
discovery; fire, wind, water, all the elements serve to mul- 
tiply and to spread it abroad. , It appears ; — ^millions of 
hands seize it, and millions of eyes devour its contents. It 
passes from town to town, from kingdom to kingdom, to 
move all hearts and heads, to engage the thoughts of all ; 
casting in the midst of the people, good, evil, truth and error, 
engendering a chaos — the chaos which precedes creation. 

This is the new, intelligent, and irresistible power which 
tends to destroy institutions, cause faith to perish, and kill 
the soul of nations. It is a fact, that already the periodical 
press reigns over the world : it places nations in the presence 
of nations; all contemplate and judge each other. 

And yet. powers grown old continue to roll on in their 
ancient tracks; they understand nothing of what is taking 
place ; they do not see that this press, to which they know 
nothing better to oppose than the censorship, customhouses, 
prisons, and the police, is effecting at the present moment 
the most powerful revolution which has hitherto shaken the 
world; that it tends to change all ; that what,was formerly 
done in darkness must now" be done in the open day,* — that 
the power of kings is on the decline, that their majesty is 
disappearing. They do not see this, they do not hear it, 
and in their ignorant pride they raise armies, surround 
themselves with soldiers ; they appeal to brutal force, for- 
getting the progress of thought, and those terrible words 
pronounced amidst the triumph of a great people, " the 
intelligent bayonets." 

O let them for once understand. The revolution which 
is taking place is invincible; that which is urging on the 
human race towards progress, is a great law of nature ; 

* There are now published in Europe 2,142 newspapers to a population of 227 
millions of souls. America has 988 papers to a population of 39 millions. Asia 
has 27 to a population of 390 millions. Africa has 12 to a population of 60 mil- 
lions.— iVcie in 1834. 



EDUCATION OF THE SOUL. 159 

kings cannot cause a people to retrograde, they cannot pre- 
vent the law frona being lulfillecl. 

But there is yet time to direct this naovement which they 
cannot overcome. What is there dangerous in the news- 
papers but error 1 Teach, then, the people to know the 
truth ; oppose the power of the soul to the falsehoods of the 
intellect : develope the primitive germs of grandeur, beauty, 
honesty, and justice, which are the very essence of man. 
This is the soul which the people again ask of you: they 
received it from heaven, and legislators have laboured only 
to extinguish it. All have attempted to mutilate man ; 
restore to us man complete. Absolute kings place their 
safety in ignorance and falsehood; popular kings will find 
their security in the diffusion of knowledge and of truth. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

OF THE EDUCATION OF THE SOUL. 

"Rien ne revele mieux I'origine de I'ame humaine que les emotions qui sont 
sans rapports avec la conservation de la vie materielle. Ces emotions que 
n'eprouvent jamais les creatures inferieures, semblent eire I'introduction a une 
existence plus relevee." Madame Necker, Education Progressive. 

The faculties of the soul do not develope themselves 
together and at once. Their successive developement is 
adapted to our wants ; they appear at the proper moment, 
in order to enlighten, to enjoy, or to combat. To study the 
precise period of their appearance, to learn to recognise, to 
direct, and to harmonize them, is what we term forming 
the education of man. This education belongs by right to 
women ; they alone know how to smile upon childhood, 
they alone can seize by sympathy the first transports of a 
soul which is awakened by their caresses. We transfer 
this work to rhetoricians and to logicians, but they arrive 
too late. In order to understand well the science of the 
soul, its alphabet must be studied near the cradle. Who- 
ever has not the beginning of it, cannot guess at its result. 

Hasten then to inquire of mothers of faniilies : they will 
tell you, how at six months old, the child begins to live 
for the external world, how it sees, judges, enjoys, how 
much a cheerful countenance enlivens it how much a 
severe aspect frightens, and renders it dejected. Its in- 



160 EDUCATION OF THE SOUL. 

telligence is still mute, while its soul already sympathizes 
with ours. Impressions correspond to impressions, and 
form a touching language of which few men know the 
secret. And further, while animals remain within the nar- 
row circle of their material interests, the child delights in 
objects which it admires. It does not yet know what can 
be useful to it, and already it attaches itself to that which is 
agreeable. Before the material interests come the pleasures 
of the imagination ; before the revelations of intelligence 
the sympathies of love ; before the wonders of speech the 
mysterious relations of the soul which receives and com- 
municates thought. There is in this course of the being a 
something superior. From the depths of sensitive life the 
soul escapes by flashes, and, in a child which is ignorant 
of itself, reveals to us the future contemplator of the beauti- 
ful, the meditator upon infinity. 

These are the first facts which signalize the appearance 
of the soul, but there is one still more decisive and stronger : 
it is the appearance of consciousness. The child does not 
know duty, and already it is incensed at injustice. He ex- 
periences this exquisitely delicate sentiment almost as soon 
as he is born, while still on the bosom of his mother, or in 
the arms of his nurse. It is his first powerful emotion ; you 
have punished him unjustly. He is angry, he cries, a some- 
thing sublime takes place within him ; a general rising 
against injustice, which exhibits itself outwardly by anger 
and grief From this time the line of demarcation is drawn, 
the spiritual being separates itself from the animal being, a 
sentiment unknown to the rest of the creation constitutes 
him man. 

At a later period, the child being wounded in its con- 
sciousness, appeals to God from the judgment of man. Ah, 
if you could but read in this oppressed soul, if you could 
but understand its transports towards heaven, to which it 
aspires as to the day of justice ! There its innocence will 
be known, its wounds will be closed ; it will then be believed, 
for it suffers in the cause of virtue and truth. Happy 
warnings of consciousness ; death, which our prejudices 
and our terrestrial passions surround with fear, appears to 
us in our earliest youth, as the only remedy for human in- 
justice. Scarcely has it left the hands of the Creator, and 



EDUCATION OF THE SOUL. 161 

the soul foreknows that its high destinies can only be ful- 
filled in another life. 

And this train of judgment and thought is not the pro- 
duction of imagination. We here trace the sketch of our 
most happy reminiscences. We again live in our child- 
hood, and seize the soul in its first transports. We verify 
by the study of ourselves the appearance of the moral sen- 
timents and of conscience; the greatest event in the history 
of man. 

In fact, according as you develope more or less these 
two faculties, will your child be more or less free, more or 
less happy. His virtues depend upon this first trial of your 
power. You hold in your hands the moral lever of hu- 
manity, two faculties which reveal man, two faculties 
which lead to God ; but Ukewise two faculties of an exqui- 
site delicacy, which are always ready to be exalted, and 
which, like soft wax, receive and retain every impression. 
If you repress them, you tend to obliterate the love of one's 
neighbour — if you stifle them, you destroy moral life — if 
you deceive them, expect no more repose, liberty, or truth. 
The maternal mspirations can impart vice or virtue, as the 
word of God imparts life. 

Such a power requires that we should stop and reflect 
upon it ; by exercising itself upon the child it reacts upon 
the mother, it ennobles her earliest offices, it even changes 
the nature of her tenderness. Before reflecting upon these 
truths, her anxious foresight watched with care and ten- 
derness over her child ; it was her blood, her life, a living 
and a suffering being ; but now it is a conscience which 
addresses her, it is a soul w^hich responds to hers ; she has 
a glimpse of heaven in its smile, of infinity in its love. 
This terrestrial form reveals to her an angel. Oh, what 
joy for her to develope herself the benevolent dispositions 
of this tender creature, to bestow upon it the life of the 
soul ; to render it at the same time worthy of the love of 
men, and of the regard of God. Already the sentiment 
of the beautiful and of the infinite, mix themselves in- 
stinctively with all the pleasure of childhood. We grow 
up, and in proportion as the animal passions develope 
themselves, the divine faculties appear to direct or control 
them ; till at last the grand, the subUme and beautiful, be- 
come the most energetic and ordinary sentiments of youth. 

11 



162 EDUCATION OF THE SOUL. 

This careless being, this timid child whom you see playing, 
if you touch his soul, becomes at once the rival of Bayard, 
the disciple of Aristides, and of Socrates ; he despises for- 
tune, ambition, and all false glories; in the face of society, 
which understands nothing of his transports, he is ready to 
die for his friend, his country, and his God. What a pro- 
digy is this ! man passes without transition from innocency 
to heroism. At the moment of experiencing the terrible 
force of the passions, all young souls would thus unite in 
the contempt of vice, and in the delights of virtue. 

This is the moment which must be seized ; the child is 
born good ; let not his goodness be effaced in the man ; he 
is eager for the beautiful, let this passion grow up with him. 
There is in the sentiment of the grand and beautiful a 
power superior to all our bad inclinations. 

Tender mothers, you must make haste. See, the pas- 
sions come like the tempest, but the young man still looks 
up to heaven. By a foresight of nature, which has hitherto 
remained useless, from not haying been sufficiently observed, 
the instinct of virtue is awakened at the same time as the 
passions are developed, and seek to make themselves 
obeyed. Ah ! do not lose this fortunate opportunity, in 
which the most sublime sacrifices present themselves as the 
natural object of life. Fear neither the excess of enthu- 
siasm, nor romantic exaltation! Acquire dominion over 
the soul, if you would control the senses, and leave to time 
and nature the care of re-eslablishing harmony between 
them. 

All our moral powders exist in us. The highest aim of 
our teachers should be to disengage, and call them forth, 
but this is what they think the least of. Without troubling 
themselves as to whether the house be already full, they 
only busy themselves about furnishing it. They fatigue 
the intellect with their wearisome maxims, and they leave 
asleep the faculties of the soul which could render these 
maxims intelligible. Fortunately, these faculties, so much 
neglected, possess a power which is proper to them, and 
which drives them outwardly. The moral sentiment mani- 
fests itself, on the mere occurrence of a violent or an unjust 
action. The aspect of nature, or the presence of virtue 
suffices to awaken the sentiment of the beautiful. It is our 
soul which incites us to the most generous sacrifices and 



EDUCATION OP THE SOUL. 163 

devotedness ; it engenders chefs d^oeuvre as well as great 
actions, and nevertheless, it never completely realizes in its 
transports, that ideal model of beauty, of truth and of he- 
roism, which is in us. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

OP THE DEVIATIONS OP THE SENTIMENT OF INFINITY. 

"En elevant avec soin nos enfants nous ferons beaucoup pour noire propre 
bonheur." Drax, Essai sur Vart d'etre heureux. 

Thus, the conscience, the moral sense and the sentiment 
of the beautiful, develope themselves at an early age, 
easily and spontaneously. These three faculties have a 
celestial tendency, but they have likewise something to do 
upon the earth ; their mission is to elevate the human soul, 
and to embellish its journey through life, by the sentiments 
of admiration and virtue. It is not the same with the sen- 
timent of infinity, which shows itself at a later period, is 
developed with difficulty, and never arrives at the know- 
ledge of itself. A stranger on the earth, without indica- 
tions of its noble origin, it loses itself amongst our passions 
and our ambitions. Passing from the delirium of love to 
the madness of play, from the covetousness of avarice to 
the intoxication of vanity, and impressing each with that 
infinity which absorbs them, it tries all human courses 
before attaining those which lead to heaven, and only at- 
tains them after having experienced that all here below is 
unsatisfactory and deceptive. 

You will never be able to prevent the deviations of the 
sentiment of infinity, if you do not at an early period recall 
it to its celestial origin by means of worship and prayer. 
To speak to little children of God, is in other terms to pre- 
sent to their contemplation the object to which all souls 
ought to tend. Cause the sentiment of infinity to recognise 
itself in the presence of the infinite God, and nothing will 
be lost, even amidst our terrestrial passions, if from the 
depth of their darkness man has still a gUmpse of the 
radiant path to heaven. What would become of the 
faculties of the soul, if isolated from that heaven to which 
they tend ? Misled by false lights into a purely terrestrial 



164 EDUCATION OF THE SOUL. 

course, lost in the frightful void of our passions, they would 
impart to them an inexhaustible ardour which could never 
be satisfied on earth ; they would lead us to err in seeking 
their path, and we should think we had found this path, 
even in crime, if crime presented itself with a false aspect 
of greatness and virtue. Maternal power, which I call to 
my aid, be not deceived ! The sentiment of infinity re- 
quires immortality ; if you direct it towards finite things, 
it will exhaust them all, without exhausting itself. It will 
produce in the soul of your pupils insatiable avarice, un- 
bridled licentiousness, ambition, superstition, despotism, 
madness, despair, — in a word, all the passions which con- 
sume without satisfying us, which flatter us without ren- 
dering us happy. Alexander, the conqueror of the East, 
was dissatisfied with the smallness of the world ; he knew 
not what to do with his soul, this master of men, and after 
having deceived it by the conquest of the earth, he debased 
it by debauchery. 

This is an example applicable to our own history. 
Brought up in ignorance of God, the actual generation is 
the most terrible answer to the system of Rousseau ; not 
that it is hostile to all morality ; in its thoughts vices have 
remained vices, because vice is always without elevation. 
But crime, these children of error have reinstated it; they 
have praised its energy; they have assigned it its place in 
the policy of the people at the very time when they con- 
demned it in the policy of kings. The unfortunate crea- 
tures ! I have heard them envy the glory of Marat and the 
wisdom of Robespierre ! They spoke coolly of causing 
heads to fall for the good of humanity ; and the reign of 
the executioner was but to them the regeneration of a 
world. 

Every time that a noble sentiment is mixed up with 
vicious thoughts, the cause must be sought for in the devia- 
tion of the sentiment of the beautiful, and of the infinite. 
If you restrict man to the earth, he will attach himself to it. 
If you hide from him the road to heaven, he will mistake 
the object of creation. Ah ! if man be born but to seek a 
terrestrial happiness, then all crimes are justified ! But if 
our inheritance is not of this world ; if the object of crea- 
tion be to draw us to God by love ; if all the faculties of 
our soul aspire to this end, wherefore delay to exhibit 



EDUCATION OF THE SOUL. 165 

heaven to us ? To leave us without a guide here below, is 
to will that we should every where meet with nothingness ; 
Ithe nothingness {le n^ant) which attaches itself to our ter- 
restrial desires, in proportion as fortune gratifies them. 

But children do not comprehend God ! and thou, philo- 
sopher, dost thou comprehend him ? The child prays to 
God as he prays to his father ; what canst thou imagine 
greater or more true ? There is a something which ex- 
ceeds all our earthly ambitions ; a something of infinity 
which opens heaven to us in the first words of the prayer, 
— " Our Father." 

So far, then, man is almost complete. We have seen 
arise successively in him, the love of the beautiful, the 
moral sentiment, conscience, and infinity ; but as yet, 
reason does not appear. It would at first be useless, for it 
would have nothing to enlighten ; it would even be preju- 
dicial, for it would check the graceful carelessness, which 
is so favourable to children, and which so well becomes us 
in the games of early childhood. Reason will come later, 
at the stormy period when the passions are unchained ; 
when ambition corrodes us. Then if you have been able 
to develope the other faculties of the soul, those exquisite 
qualities which form the charm of childhood, and which, 
in youth, produce enthusiasm ; doubt not of the victory. Is 
there on earth a vice which will not fall before the revela- 
tion of the beautiful ? an error which will not vanish before 
the light of reason ; and is not conscience more powerful 
than the sword, the faggot, torture, or pleasure 1 Develope 
in C{3esar the moral sentiment which animated Cato, and 
Rome will be free, and Csesar will be great. Develope in 
Alexander the sentiment of the beautiful, which animated 
Socrates, give to his ambition the infinity of virtue, and 
instead of conquering the world, Alexander would render 
it happy. A generous thought in the soul of a mother, was 
then only required to save the human race. 



166 DEVELOPEMENT OF REASON 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

OF THE DEVELOPEMENT OF REASON ON THE EARTH. 

" On trouve dans les verites eternelles des ressources centre les errears pas- 
sageres." 

Madame de Stael — L'AIlemagne. 

Develope the intellectual faculties, and you will give rise 
merely to opinions: there will be chaos, incoherencies, 
systems, but no principles. In a society subjected to this 
special kind of education, men only associate with each 
other under the influence of transient passions; though poli- 
tically united, they always remain morally isolated. 

Develope the faculties of the soul, and principles arise on 
every side ; men then respond to each other by a small 
number of truths, the spontaneous expressions of pure reason, 
and which constitute the bond of unity of the human race. 

It is important not to confound this superior reason with 
the narrow and variable reasonings which dishonour hu- 
manity. Follow the course of the individual reason of a 
man, the circumscribed reasen of a corporation, of a town, 
of a kingdom, you will see it oppose itself to every truth 
which offends it ; it will take umbrage at every virtue 
which surpasses it ; and leave every generous idea out of 
the question. 

Because thou art the king of a great people, the mayor 
of a little town, or the president of an academy, dost thou 
think that reason has infeoffed itself to thy greatness, or has 
subjected itself to the measure of thy ambition? 

Thus the reason of a family, of a caste, of a tribe, of a 
people, express only narrow, transient, and fugitive inte- 
rests: they divide the earth into hostile societies. Pure 
reason is universal : it unites all men in the same moral 
code — assembles every people under the same God. This 
only is true reason. 

In order to disengage reason from all that which is not 



ON THE EARTH. 167 

itself, we must ascend to the primitive principle of each thing. 
Reason is the tracing of facts up to their unity : it is the ex- 
pression of the principle itself. 

I interrogate a savage respecting the existence of God, 
and he shows me his idol. " But who made this idol V he 
answers, " I carved it out from a branch of the sacred tree, 
and this is my God." " And who made this tree?" — '* The 
earth, over which, from gratitude, it spreads its shadow." 
" Well, but who made this earth, whose bosom engenders 
and bears forests 1" — " Seest thou1" exclaims the savage, 
directing his ears towards the horizon, " it is the great spirit 
who resides beyond the blue mountains." Thus, passing 
from deduction to deduction, the savage arrives at all that 
which the human mind can conceive of greatness; his un- 
tutored reason, which humiliated itself before an idol, has all 
at once discovered the invisible. He believes in it, and is 
firm in this belief: he touches upon the regions of infinity. 

This train of deductions is like a summary of the general 
history of the world. All civilized nations have passed 
from the worship of the idol to the worship of God ; that 
is to say, from an act of circumscribed intelligence to a 
manifestation of universal reason. 

Let us now follow the savage into the woods, and let us 
see how the morality of his limited intelligence will raise 
itself by degrees up to the principles of universal reason. 
He hunts for his family, he fights for his tribe ; a forest, 
of which he knows the limits, constitutes his world ; his 
reason sees nothing beyond enemies to be conquered, and a 
prey to be devoured. 

But when a few degrees more advanced in civilization, 
the wandering tribe becomes stationary, — attaches itself to 
the soil ; the soil becomes a country which must be defended, 
and more especially honoured. Then arise sciences, arts, 
politics, and philosophy. Human reason takes its flight 
upwards, it becomes expanded, but without quitting the 
limits marked out by patriotism, and it is still but a narrow 
egotistical virtue, which centres all in one spot, which 
makes us only citizens instead of making us men. 

These limits must be overstepped, all these isolated reasons 
of colonies and tribes which tend to divide the world, must 
be brought back to the universal reason, which tends to re- 
constitute the family of the human race. From the love 



168 DEVELOPEMENT OP REASON 

of country we must pass on to the love of humanity. While 
advancing upon this long and difficult passage, man 
abandons his prejudices, his superstitions, his human sacri- 
fices, national vengeances, wars of conquest, wars of reli- 
gion ; in short, all kinds of despotism and fanaticism. This 
is a spectacle worthy the regards of heaven ! In proportion 
as the reason of the human race expands, nations draw 
closer to each other, the arms fall from their hands, and 
men recognise each other as brethren. 

In the presence of nature there are neither nobles nor 
parias, masters nor slaves ; neither French, Germans, nor 
English ; there are only men, all children of the same Father, 
who is in heaven. Beneath the influence of this high truth, 
what people will dare to sell slaves, what nation will dare 
to declare war against another nation, what man will dare 
to despise his fellow man 1 

And here we begin to comprehend the work of the 
Creator. We should love our family more than ourselves, 
and the human race more than our family. Our soul then 
embraces the whole world, and even extends beyond its 
limits. From one people to another it arrives at the unity 
of the human family, just as from the contemplation of the 
idol the soul of the savage arrives at the unity of God. 

But here, theologians of every dogma, and the doctors 
of all forms of worship, may raise a serious objection. By 
developing this pure reason, say they, you obliterate faith 
— faith, the only support of man, before men and before 
God. It is by faith that we disperse armies, that we trans- 
port mountains, that we control the flesh and the passions. 
Show us then the prodigies of your reason, the armies 
which it disperses, the mountains which it moves, the pas- 
sions which it controls. Faith, you say, is only an illusion, 
but this illusion cons^tjtutes our power ; and far from being 
repugnant to the nature of man, it renders him complete, 
since it corresponds to a faculty of his soul. This is the 
way in which theologians make use of reasonings against 
a reason which throws them all into the shade. But these 
objections, which the priests of all religions have repeated 
from the beginning of time, points only to imaginary 
dangers. Reason does not destroy faith, she directs it 
towards greater things ; from the rehcs of a saint to the 
power of God ; from the apparition of a phantom to medi- 



ON THE EARTH. 169 

tations on the future life; from the suspicious miracles 
of a monk or of a dervise, to the daily-recurring miracles 
of a Providence which watches over us. Reason destroys 
the errors which circumscribe faith, and the prejudices 
which pervert it, at the same time that it displays to our 
souls those infinite truths which astonish and delight us. 

Nothing is more confined than the regions of falsehood, 
for falsehood is of human origin ; nothing is more vast than 
the regions of truth, for truth comes from God. 

Thus, in the presence of reason, the empire of faith, far 
from being contracted, is enlarged by it ; though we no 
longer implicitly believe the word of man, we believe in the 
power of the Creator. Faith passes from the miracles of 
Madame de Saint-Amour, and of Prince Hohenlohe, to the 
miracles of the creation ; from the blind man who is re- 
stored to his sight by touching the tomb of Saint-Paris, to 
the human race who receive light from the hands of the 
All-powerful. 

The true point of view is then the totality (ensemble) of 
things. We thus attain the limits of human thought, and 
on every side these limits extend to God, who is the reason 
of all things. 



BOOK III. 

EDUCATION OF THE SOUL. 
MORAL AND POLITICAL STUDIES OF MOTHERS OF FAMILIES. 



CHAPTER I. 

OP A GREAT DUTY WHICH IS IMPOSED UPON MOTHERS. 

" O Dieu, donnez moi des paroles, nori de celles qui flattent les oreilles, et qui 
font louer les discours, mais de celles qui pcnetrent les coeurs, etqui captivent 
Tentenderaent." 

BossuET, Sermons. 

Listen-, good mothers : this is not a question of one of 
those idle studies, the only aim of which is to stock the 
memory ; it concerns an important question, the most im- 
portant which can be agitated on the earth ; so important, 
that the manner in which you resolve it, will decide without 
appeal of your moral life and death, of the moral life and 
death of your children. It is not only a matter that re- 
gards yourselves, but also the flesh of your flesh, the blood 
of your blood ; those poor little creatures, whom you have 
brought into this world, with passions, vices, love, hatred, 
pain, and death ; for these are in truth w^hat they have 
received from you with the life of the body ; and these will 
indeed be miserable presents, if you do not also give them 
the life of the soul ; that is to say, arms wherewith to fight, 
and a light whereby to direct themselves. 

You are mothers according to the laws of our material 
nature, with all the love of a hen which watches over its 
little ones, and covers them with its wings. I come to ask 
you to be mothers according to the laws of our divine 
nature, with all the love of a soul called upon to form souls. 

Assure yourselves well, whether or not you owe to your 



DUTY IMPOSED UPON MOTHERS. I7l 

childuen only the milk of your breasts, and the instruction 
of the intelligence; and if you interrogate the Gospel and 
nature, take heed to their answer — " Man does not live by 
bread alone, but by the word of truth." 

Truth is that which renders man free ; it is the voice 
which calls us to the love of God and of our neighbour, 
and to virtue. 

Error, on the contrary, is that which renders us slaves 
to the passions of others and to our own ; it is that which 
causes us to sacrifice our conscience to fortune, to honours, 
to glory, to vice. 

There are men who have lived for truth, and who may 
be cited as its type; Epaminondas, Socrates, Plato, Fene- 
lon, Bernardin de St. Pierre, and out of the sphere of 
humanity, Jesus Christ. 

There are others who have lived for error; Anytus, 
Marat, Cartouche, Cassar, Napoleon ; for all glory which is 
bought with the slavery or the blood of men is but a false 
glory. 

Thus, virtue springs from truth ; crime from error ; 
whence we may infer that a good treatise on education can 
only be in the end the search after truth. 

The destiny of your children depends then on the solici- 
tude with which you engage in this search. You may open 
out to them the road to happiness, and precede them in it. 
A delightful task, which calls for all the powers of your 
soul, and which will place you in the presence of God, of 
nature, of your children, and of yourselves. 

And mark well all that nature has done towards accom- 
plishing this difficult work. In the first place, she has 
brought you near to the truth which is in her, by detaching 
your sex from almost all the ambitions which debase our 
own : and secondly, she has given your love to the tender- 
ness of little children, at the same time that she has filled 
their hearts with innocence, and their minds with curiosity. 
Can you doubt the object of your mission, when you per- 
ceive the sweet harmonies which unite them to you ? 
Nature attaches them to your bosoms, awakens them by 
your caresses : she wills that they should owe every thing 
to you, so that after having received from you life and 
thought, these earthly angels await your inspirations, in 
order to believe and to love. 



172 DUTY IMPOSED UPON MOTHERS. 

But the care of nature is not limited to these sweet ap- 
proximations : she has for you and for your children a 
particular foresight, which being badly understood, have 
caused her more than once to be accused of forgetfulness 
and injustice. All the beings which inhabit this earth, 
except man, receive instincts from her: she perfects the 
education of animals, and neglects ours; she gives to an 
insect a splendid covering, and casts us naked upon the 
earth. Such are the complaints of Lucretius ; and yet it 
so happens that what appeared to him an abandonment, is 
the highest degree of foresight. On the one hand, our 
nakedness has given us the whole world ; on the other, our 
ignorance tends to bring us nearer to truth. In fact, when 
education comes to take possession of the child, it finds 
him in a situation absolutely similar to that of the sage of 
Descartes : his intelligence is new, his soul slumbers : his 
memory is still unfurnished, the mind is a blank sheet: 
but there is this difference between the sage and the child, 
that the former was obliged to erase from his mind that 
which he had already learned with great trouble ; whereas 
the child, having received nothing, either from nature or 
from education, presents himself pure to the thoughts of 
men, with a soul which aspires to develope itself. Thus 
his ignorance is a benefit, a foresight, which raises him to 
the level of the sage. This sheet is empty, good mothers, 
in order that you should fill it ; but reflect well, that all 
which you engrave upon it will remain ; that if you engrave 
error, the child will Hve in error ; that is to say, that he 
will be unhappy even were fortune to load him with her 
choicest gifts : that if you engrave upon it truth, the child 
will live in truth ; that is to say, he will be happy even if 
fortune should try him with affliction ; for, according to 
the beautiful remark of Plato, the knowledge of truth alone 
suflices for the happiness of man. 

To establish principles which recall all men to the laws 
of nature by destroying the institutions and the prejudices 
which oppose themselves to these laws, — this is what must 
be sought for, this is what it is truly useful to know. 

Be then in a state to inspire your children, if you are 
desirous that they should be happy. The entrance upon 
this path may perhaps seem to you barren, and the word 
truth has in it a something of austerity, which perhaps 



ERROR AND TRUTH. 173 

startles you. But, have you ever draw^n back from the 
most painful sacrifices, w^hen the material life of your chil- 
dren has been concerned ? Do you not each day descend 
to the most trifling details respecting the support and the 
health of their bodies, and when their moral life, when their 
soul is concerned, when the question is to save them by 
your means, and to save yourselves by means of them, 
would you hesitate ; you will not violate the law of your 
being, which calls you to the source of the good, the true, 
the infinite. What are a few days of study, in order to 
arrive so near to God and to bring your children thither? 



CHAPTER II. 



OF ERROR AND TRUTH. 

" Que puis-je savoir! que dois-je faire, qu'ose-je esperer ?" Kant. 

" Et de quel autre sujet un homme sense pourroit-il s'entretenir plus souvent et 
plus volontiers." Platon. 

What can I know, what ought I to do ? What dare I 
hope? I raise my voice, I interrogate all the systems of 
philosophy, all the religions, and all reply to me, " Come to 
us." Then hstening to each, I hear some proposing to me 
to believe nothing, others to believe without examining ; 
they begin by requiring doubt, and end by requiring from 
me credulity.' If I speak of virtue, I hear this name given 
to crime ; if I speak of God, I hear this appellation bestowed 
upon matter ; the farther I advance, the more my reason 
becomes confused, and I conclude by being sure of nothing ; 
not even of the existence of my soul ; not even of the sub- 
stance of my body ; metaphysics do not leave me my sensa- 
tions ; logic leaves me only in uncertainty between two 
opposite reasonings. Thus I may touch upon every system 
without arriving at any conviction ; and immersed in this 
philosophical and religious darkness, after having studied 
all, and pondered over all, I stop, alarmed at being able to 
understand only my nothingness. 

But what ! is it really true that the knowledge of truth is 
denied to us ; that we experience the desire for it ; we feel 
the want of it, and that nothing in us can reach up to if? 



174 ERROR AND TRUTH. 

Ah! if truth were not necessary to virtue, one might believe 
in the eternal reign of falsehood. But truth is the life of 
the soul ; truth is that which is beautiful, that which is just. 
What would the world be without truth ? what would man 
be without justice ? 

On casting my eyes upon myself, I find all the wants of 
my being supplied. The ear is constructed for sounds, and 
the voice of all nature is raised to charm it. The eyes are 
made for hght, and light comes to them through thirty- 
three millions of leagues, and shall the soul thus formed for 
truth, seek for it without hope 1 shall the first necessity of 
its being be wanting to it ; the eye has its sun, shall the 
soul not have its sun ? what an anomaly in nature would 
man be, if condemned to live in doubt between crime and 
virtue, he could neither content himself with animal exist- 
ence, nor aspire to celestial life ; such an anomaly does not 
exist. 

To begin with the errors of the senses, is there any one 
of them that experience does not rectify, judge of, and 
' correct ? 

Let Malebranche* point them out with all the sagacity 
of his methodical mind ; let him show us their illusions and 
deceptions ; the more he advances in his task, the more I 
perceive that he allows the results to escape him. The 
philosopher sees only the senses which deceive us, but I 
can see the power which rectifies their deceptions. How 
could he discover the falsehood, when he did not possess 
the truth ? 

The sun rises and sets every morning and evening, our 
eyes see it advance in the heavens, which it fills with its 
light ; it then sinks beneath the horizon. Before this sun 
which appears to us to be in motion, on this earth which 
seems to us immovable, a manf comes to declare that our 
eyes deceive us, and that the whole human race is in error. 
This man is thrown into a dungeon ; there are against him 
the east and the west, the authority of the church, the 
authority of the people, and six thousand years of belief, 
founded upon the double testimony of our senses and of 
Holy Scripture. But, striking the earth with his foot, " and 
nevertheless it turns," he exclaimed ; sublime words, which 
changed at the same time the physical system of the uni- 

* Recherche de la Verite. t Galileo. 



ERROR AND TRUTH. 175 

verse, and the moral system of the rehgious world. For 
the first time the authority of the thing seen and written, 
was made to bend before the authority of genius discovering 
the law of nature. 

Thus man raises himself even to the intelligence of 
matter. He finds in geometry the firm basis of all the 
physical truths, but where will he find the solid basis of 
moral truths ; the criterion of truth ? 

To seek for the principle of certainty ; to effect by this 
principle the separation of good from evil, of vice from 
virtue ; to disengage by this means truth from the preju- 
dices which veil it, and the human race from the errors 
which corrode them. This is the problem to be solved. 

Nature invites us to this work. She wills that we employ 
in it at the same time all the powers of our being; and in 
order to dispose us to it, she places in us the sense of jus- 
tice and injustice, which requires a judge; she gives wings 
to our soul, and then carries it into the regions of infinity, 
where the soul finds the solution of the questions — God, 
heaven, hell, immortality, and nothingness. 

Terrible visions, which torment the conscience of man 
while upon earth. Herein are comprised the highest ques- 
tions to which the soul can attain ; all the interests of mind 
and matter ; the being in its relations with visible and in- 
visible things ; that is to say, the double being ; for when- 
ever man interrogates himself, he hears two answers — one 
which speaks in favour of his earthly passions, the other 
which separates him from these passions and recalls him, 
if we may so speak, to the bosom of the Divinity. 

What should he do with these double qualities? By 
what law should he regulate them ? What light will guide 
him in this path shrouded with darkness ? this is the great 
business of life, and we must say it is that which appears 
to disturb us the least. Some little teaching and discus- 
sion takes place upon the subject at college, but when we 
are once in the world, we hasten to forget it. Things are 
arranged in such a manner that the courses of philosophy 
cannot teach us to philosophize, for good scholars and not 
good philosophers are what is required. So far it concerns 
men ; for as far as women are concerned, the matter is 
still worse ; no one thinks of developing their souls ; and 
there will soon be six thousand years that they have led the 



176 SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 

world, without the world's ever having thought whether, in 
the exercise of such a power, truth might not be productive 
of some good to them. 

The study upon which we are about to enter, will avenge 
them for this forgetfulness ; we will trace out for them 
some pages of the history of human wisdom ; then quitting 
those dry paths which philosophers shroud at will with 
abstractions and syllogisms, we will enter upon a new 
tract, in which nature herself will be our guide, where all 
is easy, all is beautiful; where the soul, anxious about its 
destiny, will find the termination of its fears, and of its 
uncertainty, where wisdom is but love, where truth pro- 
duces delight. 



CHAPTER III. 

SEARCH AFTER TRUTH IN LOGICAL REASONINGS, OR THE AUTHO- 
RITY OF REASONING INVALIDITY OP THIS CRITERION. 

" II y a une force de verite invincible a tout le scepticisme ; il y'a une puis- 
sance de demonstration invincible a tout le dograatisme." Pascal. 

We employ reason in all the affairs of life. We expect 
that it should gain our lawsuits, and advance our sciences; 
we carry it with us from the college to the bar, from the 
bar to the tribune ; it is the strength of all our opinions, 
and the official defender of our interests. Always varying, 
and always consequent, it derives its support from our 
manners, our usages, our laws, and our prejudices, and it 
is thus, that notwithstanding its contradictions, it becomes 
an imposing authority. Listen to a lawyer and a soldier, 
on the same subject; both reason justly, and yet they both 
arrive at different conclusions. It is therefore not the rea- 
soning which deceives them, it is the point of starting. Let 
the premises be good, and truth will be the result. 

Sophists complain of the errors of reason ; they accuse it 
of all the triumphs of falsehood. This is as if they were to 
accuse gunpowder of all the devastations of war. Reason 
is the weapon of intellect, not intellect itself. Enlighten 
the intellect, and you will ameliorate the reasoning. One 
of our most singular illusions is, that we will interrogate it 



SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 177 

upon every thing. Keason has its limits ; out of the sphere 
of the sensations it sees nothing, it can arrive at nothing. 
No matter ; we continue to require it to solve the highest 
truths ; v^^e expect that it should decide upon eternal matters, 
whereas it can only take cognizance of human interests. 
We do not cease to consult and question it, notwithstanding 
it casts incessantly into our faces the humiliation of its 
doubts, and the folly of its scepticism. Thus constantly 
deceived, our intellect exhausts itself in these contem- 
plations, which are not made for it, and which end in its 
confusion. 

To consult the intellect respecting the mysteries of the 
invisible world, is like placing a blind man before the 
sublimest pictures of nature, and asking him for a descrip- 
tion of them. 

Transcendental metaphysics is but the application of reason 
to questions which are not within its grasp. How can they 
arrive at a single positive truth, when even existence itself 
is to them an insoluble problem 1 Metaphysics deny the 
bodies which surround me, and the soul which receives im- 
pressions from them, without my being able to refute their 
denial : there is, according to them, neither matter nor 
mind, no percipient being, nor perceived object. When 
we see a town, a river, the sun, the wonders of nature and 
the wonders of the heavens, — when we see a man who 
sees all this, there is only a sensation, of which nothing 
can as yet prove to us the reality. " Bodies do not exist," 
said Berkeley. " Spiritual substances do not exist," said 
Hume. The sensations remain. " What is it to feel ? am 
I even certain of feeling ?' says M. la Menais. Thus the 
greatest efforts of the intellect may lead us to the highest 
degree of absurdity. Man can assert nothing of his being, 
he can neither say, I exist, I feel, or I think ! Show me, 
then, what remains of creation. 

And some are surprised that these metaphysics, which 
refuse us the proofs of our own existence, cannot give us 
proofs of the existence of God. 

How can it be expected that man should prove a God to 
exist by reasonings which cannot even prove to him the 
substance of his body. 

In Homer and in Virgil we see the shades of the dead : 
in metaphysical discussions we see nothing : it is a com- 

12 



178 SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 



11 



plete void, there is no substance ; the logician does not 
even leave us a phantom, not even the dust which returns 
to dust, according to the energetic expression of the Scrip- 
tures. Shall we, then, seek for truth in nothingness 1 

A man who was at the same time the greatest of moralists 
and the most powerful of logicians, Kant, wished to come 
to a conclusion respecting this incapable and threatening 
science — the greater it seemed to be, the more he. desired 
to comprehend the whole, and to define its limits; his 
eagle eye penetrated into it as into an abyss : the question, 
was to examine human intellect, to ask an account of 
what it can, and what it will effect; to study it at the 
same time in its relationship to God and nature, to time and 
eternity. From this examination, the most conscientious, the 
most profound, which ever emanated from a philosophical 
brain, an immense fact results ; viz. that the instrument of 
thought (the cognizant organ) can do nothing beyond the 
domain of the sensible perceptions, and that logic is power- 
less regarding all the questions which carry us beyond the 
sphere of time and space. 

And this result, so positive, is not the product of reasoning, 
it is the consequence of a fact. Kant places on two paral- 
lel lines the metaphysical arguments for and against the 
existence of God : weighs them in the same balance, and 
demonstrates their equality. The argumentation having 
decided nothing, doubt supervenes, and the truth remains 
unknown. As many times as he repeats the experiment, 
he arrives at the same conclusion. The liberty of man, 
the eternity of the world, the immortality of the soul, are 
insoluble problems to the perceptions of the senses. Rea- 
soning is restricted to the earth. How should the finite 
comprehend the infinite ? 

Thus, one of the loftiest intellects has employed all the 
powers of abstraction to establish that abstraction is power- 
less in the research of principles, and that instead of com- 
plaining of this weakness, we ought to thank nature for it. 
What would have become of truth — the truth which ought 
to be universal — if nature had made its demonstration de- 
pendent upon reasonings which are unintelligible to seven- 
eighths of the human race 1 



SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 179 



CHAPTER IV. 

SEARCH AFTER TRUTH ON THE AUTHORITY OP THE DOCTORS — 
INVALIDITY OF THIS CRITERION. 

" Le plus grand mal sur la terre, c'est I'ignorance de la verite." 

Platon. 

Man has opened out to himself two roads towards truth: 
reason and faith. From reasoning we have seen philo- 
sophical systems arise ; from faith we shall see religious 
systems originate. To the former belongs the authority of 
genius ; to the latter, the authority of scripture : the one 
makes philosophers, the other theologians. The former 
gives life to nations, the latter imparts to them thought and 
movement. 

All scripture, even Holy Scripture, has passed through 
the hands of men. They have copied, falsified, interpreted ! 
every where leaving the impress of their passions, and of 
their miserable sophistry ; substituting error for truth ; theo- 
logy for religion ; and man for God. 

Let the Bible, the book of charity and love, fall into the 
hands of the doctors, they will find the executioner in it. 
It is by punishments that they unite this life to the other, 
and the flames of the inquisition correspond to the flames 
of hell. 

There is in the Bible a line, the authoritv of which has 
been cited from age to age up to our own times, in order 
to justify the greatest of all crimes, slavery : " Cursed 
be Canaan ! a servant of servants shall he be to his bre- 
thren."* 

" Shall we allow a single man to infect a town with his 
impiety, when we see that God has punished whole cities'?" 
exclaims Calvin, in his refutation of Michael Servet ; and 
this argument suffices to cause to be burnt alive the anta- 
gonist whom he could not overcome. On the authority of 
the Bible the reformer made himself an executioner. 

* Genesis ix. 25. 



180 SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 

Certainly, one must either give up the search after truth 
by means of theological authorities, or consent to find it in 
all the crimes which have shocked the world. 

The history of the interpretation of holy books would 
be the history of human insanit}'. This vast picture, drawn 
by a skilful hand, would disgust us both with the gloss and 
with the commentary. 

But what mortal eyes could ever decipher all its bloody 
pages 1 

To take a single example. Carry yourself back to the 
days of the League : the war is over ; a solemn abjuration 
has just restored Henri IV. to France. Already order is 
becoming re-established, and prosperity is about to revive. 
But if the king were not truly converted ; but if the Hu- 
guenots were not sufficiently persecuted; the king must be 
deposed, the Huguenots must be annihilated. These fatal 
ideas still disturb some minds, A preacher undertakes to 
express them ; he is not a sanguinary man, and yet he asks 
for blood ; he is not an enemy to his country, and yet he la- 
bours to overthrow it. He is a man of faith, a man of con- 
viction, a man misled, unquestionably, but yet consequent in 
his doctrines, and whose doctrines are logical and canonical. 
Let him alone ; he will say nothing without the support of 
the text and of the law ; he will be positive, unexception- 
able ; if you adopt his authorities, you will be obliged to 
adopt his opinions. You would expel the king, you would 
burn the heretics, you would sanctify the crime of Jacques 
Clement. 

He now asks for his share in the riches of the Huguenots, 
and do not think that he would exercise a scandalous 
spoliation, — no, it is a right which he claims. He can quote 
the authority of Moses, of Joshua, of the Book of Wisdom, 
in which it is said, " The just shall spoil the unjust." To 
blame the church for plundering the Huguenots is, there- 
fore, to deny the authority of the Holy Scriptures ; it is still 
more, it is to blame God for having stripped Saul, Roboam, 
Achab, by the hands of the priests, for the notorious crimes 
of these princes.* Under similar circumstances one does 
not take the goods of others ; but one justly strips the unjust 
possessors of goods of which they are not worthy ; and this 
is truth and justice ; for in the assembly of prelates at the 
* Porthaise, 4th Sermon. 



SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 181 

Council of Latran, all the kings and emperors of the Chris- 
tian world being present, it was decreed that the said 
sovereigns should, within a year, drive from out of their 
territories all heretics, and if they did not obey, they were 1o 
be excommunicated and their treasures distributed among 
the Catholics. 

Thus speaks father Porthaise. A line of the Scriptures 
is sufficient for him to decide upon the interests of multi- 
tudes, and he pronounces this line with a firm voice, with- 
out fear or remorse, whatever may be the meaning which 
it contains. Of what consequence are the afflictions of 
men to him who believes that he is accomplishing the word 
of God ? 

If he would give to the priesthood the right of over- 
throwing nations; if he would also give to nations the right 
of upsetting thrones, he opens Saint Bernard and Saint 
Augustin, who lay down the rule, from a passage of the 
Scriptures, that the church possesses two swords, the 
spiritual and the temporal ; that she makes use of the 
former in excommunicating heretical princes, and that she 
may give canonically to the people the right of employing 
against the prince who is rebellious to the church the tem- 
poral sword upon his goods, his lands, and his life. 

If he would prove that the sovereign pontiff has the right 
of dethroning: kings, he does not trouble himself to seek for 
the principles of political right, he at once comes to the 
point, and says, " It is allowable for the pope to depose 
kings, since Samuel deposed Saul ; Joad, Athaliah ; Azarias, 
king Osias ;"* and he corroborates these authorities by the 
authority of the Council of Latran, which has admitted this 
right. 

When the authority is not sufficiently clear, he comments 
upon it and interprets it. It is thus that he finds the stake 
and fagot in the Scriptures: " God says. Every tree which 
bears not fruit shall be cut down and cast into the fire ;" 
and thus, adds Porthaise, the punishment of fire is destined 
to heretics. 

Lastly, he establishes as a principle that the action of 
Jacques Clement-|- cannot be condemned, because it would 

* Sermons of Porthaise. t The murderer of Henry III. 



182 SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 

be to condemn the actions of Ehud, Samson, Judith, and 
Jehu, which are sanctioned by the Bible, and by the deeds, 
counsels, and commandments, of Samuel, Elias, and Elisha, 
which were inspired by God. 

Of a truth, here are infamous doctrines, and we must 
hasten to say, doctrines which religion disproves ; but if 
they are opposed to the spirit of the scriptures, they harmo- 
.nize with the letter of theology. Father Porthaise reasons 
well according to the principles of authority, or, to speak 
plainer, this principle dispenses him from all reasoning. 
When an action takes place, he need not consider whether 
it be good, but merely whether the Scriptures find it good. 
The proof of its goodness does not lie in man's reason, but 
in the authority of the book. Be not in a hurry to condemn 
him ; there is nothing wicked about him but his principles. 
This man who horrifies you, who burns heretics, who would 
place the heads of kings beneath his feet, who justifies the 
commission of crime by crime, believes in his conscience 
that he is sanctifying virtue by virtuous works. 

And yet his words pronounced in the temple, in the 
presence of a people still armed for the defence of their 
faith, must produce their fruits. Amidst this crowd there 
is a man, who, while listening, raises his forehead jaundiced 
by fever. His brain burns, his mind is excited, he hears 
that a saviour of his religion, an avenger of God is required. 
He runs in a bewildered state from convent to convent, 
from one solitude to another, bearing within him the poison 
which corrodes his bosom, until the fatal hour when Europe 
resounds for the first time with the name of Ravaillac* 

Observe that it is never in the new law, but in the 
abolished law, that fanatics go to seek for their terrible 
arguments : they are obliged to invoke Moses, in order to 
strike in the name of Jesus Christ. 

Let it not be said that I give to the works of Father 
Porthaise the power of an authority. The authority is not 
in him, it is in the scripture which he quotes, and in the 
councils upon which he depends. As for the doctrine, it is 
a misfortune doubtless, but it essentially belongs to his 
epoch. That which he preached at Poictiers, the Doctor 
Boucher preached at Paris almost in similar terms; and 

* The murderer of Henry IV. 



SEA.RCU AFTER TRUTH. 183 

the same was taught by the remnant of the League all over 
France. 

But 1 quote men whose works have left no reminiscence, 
obscure men, who were lost in the darkness of ignorance 
and fanaticism. In order to prove the aberrations of the 
principle of authority, a more enlightened age should have 
been chosen, and in this age, one of those transcendental 
minds, the convictions of which become in their turn autho- 
rities for the human race. 

Well, let us quote Bossuet, and what greater man could 
I quote ? A splendid genius, the leading intellect of the age 
of Louis XTV., his name reminds us of all the prodigies of 
eloquence, and of all the powers of faith. You see him in 
solitude turning over the pages of the theological w^orks of 
one of the most illustrious princes of the church ; all of a 
sudden his eyes sparkle, his lips quiver, his hair stands on 
end, and he is horrified. What, then, has happened in the 
Christian world ? What sacrilege, what impiety, awaken 
the thunders of his wrath ? A holy prelate. Cardinal 
Sefrondate, moved with compassion for some little children 
who died without having been baptized, had dared to main- 
tain that they were not condemned to the everlasting fires 
of hell. " Low and enervating sentiment," exclaims Bos- 
suet," which destroys the force of piety; strange novelty, 
detestable error, unheard-of language, which has over- 
whelmed us with astonishment." Then yielding to the 
holy rage which transports him, the prelate addresses 
himself to the pope, and requires him to punish the guilty 
cardinal ; he desires that the punishment should be severe, 
as it is fitting that its severity should be proportioned to the 
high quarter from which the fault emanated. " The con- 
demnation of children dying without having been baptized," 
says he, " is an article of firm faith of the church. They 
are guilty, since they die in the wrath of God, and in the 
powers of darkness. Children of wrath by nature, objects 
of hatred and aversion, cast into hell with the other damned, 
they remain there everlastingly subject to the horrible ven- 
geance of the devil Thus the learned Denis Peteau has 
decided, as well as the most eminent Bellarmin, the Council 
of Lyons, the Council of Florence, and the Council of 
Trent ; for these things," coolly adds the new father of the 
church, "are not to be decided by weak reasonings, and 



184 SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 

by affections entirely human ; but by the authority of 
scripture and that of tradition."* 

Frightful doctrine, which supplants the authority of nature 
by the authority of Peteau and of Noris. The prelate be- 
lieves that he acts in accordance with his reason, in yielding 
to the desire of burning and of condemning ; this passion 
of the twelfth century, of which the sad remains still oppress 
us ; and imparting to this idea the energy of his enthusiasm, 
and the inspiration of his genius, he falls into impiety, under 
the pretext of bringing us back to faith. 

There is a fatality attaches to certain dogmas which 
draws even genius down with it. 

And what are these idolatrous dogmas which tend to 
regulate the belief of all by the authority of some ? Where- 
fore did God come upon the earth, if men will still dictate 
to us ? Is the authority of a book or of a council any thing 
else than the expression of the predominating idea of an 
age ? Time passes on, and this authority expresses no 
more than an error. To seek for truth in the decisions of 
the doctors is, in fact, to bring us back to the opinions and 
the passions of bygone ages; it is to make us return to 
what is no more ; it is to deny the existence of Christianity 
in accordance with human perfectibility. 

In order to arrive at similar results, not only must we 
renounce reason, but we must also stifle the sense of justice 
and of injustice which exists in us. We must say as Pascal 
said, " I believe because it is absurd ; and. again, I believe 
because it is iniquitous." 

Certainly, there is no one who respects more than our- 
selves the holiness of scripture ; but, also, no one is more 
apprehensive of the interpretations of men. After the 
example of Bossuet, who will dare to seek for truth in 
them ? From this example it must necessarily be inferred? 
1st, that the authority of doctors, the authority of writings, 
is a very bad means of knowing the truth, because it may 
lead to error. 2d. That the most sacred authority requires 
a rule which justifies it, and that this rule exists neither in 
a bhnd faith, nor in human reasonings. 

* CEuvres de Bossuet. 



SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 185 



CHAPTER V. 

SEARCH AFTER TRUTH IN THE AUTHORITY OF THE HUMAN RACE 
INVALIDITY OF THIS CRITERION. 

" On n'aurait jamais fait un pas vers la verite, si les autorites eussent prevalu 
sur la raison." Duclos. 

A MAN, powerful in eloquence, has come to place the 
authority of the human race by the side of the authority of 
scripture. We will not examine how far these authorities 
may proceed together ; this point of doctrine is foreign to 
our subject. The question for us is to seek for the founda- 
tion of certainty, the infalHble rule of truth. Is this. rule to 
be found in universal testimony ? In other words, does the 
consent of all mankind suffice to establish truth ? This is 
the question. 

And this question includes another, of which the solution 
will be decisive, viz. whether the voice of the human race 
has always proclaimed truth ? , 

For if it so happened that the voice of the human race 
had proclaimed error, it could no longer be considered as 
a testimony. How can you cause an eternal truth to arise 
from a transient opinion ? Authority is infallible only in 
as far as it is immutable. 

In order to establish the principle of the authority of the 
human race, some have endeavoured to demonstrate, on the 
one hand, the weakness of individual reason, and on the 
other, the strength of general reason. M. de la Menais will 
have it, that the one should be abject, that the other should 
be infallible ; like Pascal, he humiliates human reason, and 
like Vico, he deifies the reason of the human race. 

But, if each individual reason only engenders error, how 
can the aggregate of all these reasons produce truth ? Is 
it, then, one of the privileges of falsehood to disappear by 
becoming larger? You say that I am but darkness, and 
you add, from the union of all these darknesses, light will 
spring forth. Thus my logic must be to repel the reason of 
each as an insensate thing, and to adopt the reason of all 



186 SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 

as a respectable authority. I must approach this impure 
sink, to which each individual reason brings its follies and 
its crimes ; where the one announces the doctrines of anni- 
hilation, where the other creates the manners of the age of 
Tiberius, for it is reason, you say, which engenders all these 
monstrosities. It formed Petronius and Nero. I must listen 
to India and China, the east and the west, and amidst the 
frightful clamour of all these human reasons, the voice 
which most predominates over the abyss will be the voice 
of reason.* 

In order to destroy similar sophistries, it suffices to pre- 
sent them clearly to the mind ; they carry with themselves 
their own refutation. 

Let M. de la Menais depict reason with the characters 
of crime and madness ; reason does not answer him, it 
shows itself, and whosoever can but have a glimpse of it, 
declares it to have been misunderstood and calumniated. 

And as regards the authority of the human race, this 
universal reason, which is to serve as a rule and as a prin- 
ciple, at what epoch did it proclaim truth ? Shall we select 
the earliest periods of history? Then barbarity and igno- 
rance divided the earth between them ; all nations had 
slaves, and all religions human sacrifices. Such is the most 
ancient testimony of the reason called universal. At a 
later age, the belief in the holiness of celibacy, the divinity 
of virgins, the power of demons, enchanters, of ghosts, 
magic, and oracles, was spread over the whole world, and 
covered it with chains which are not yet broken. It is in 
this manner that the doctrine presents itself; one must 
believe in the truth of all these things, or else deny the au- 
thority of the human race. 

Just imagine what would have become of the world, if 
the rare intellects which have enlarged the scope of human 
thought ; if Socrates, Aristotle, Galileo, Descartes, had suc- 
cumbed beneath the general belief of their ages. Though 
still immersed in the darkness of idolatry and- slavery, the 
world, even at the present day, would have believed itself 
civilized while selling an entire people by auction, like Caesar, 
or while prostating itself before an ox, like Sesostris. Uni- 
versal authority is universal immobility, and immobility in 
folly and in crime. 

* " Essai sur rindifference." 



SEARCH AFTER TRUTH. 187 

In vain does individual rer.son protest against these aber- 
rations of what people dare to call universal reason, it is 
overwhelmed by the number. Authority does not judge, it 
counts ; that which is attested by the generality of men must 
be believed, not because wisdom invites us to believe it, but 
because the generality of men attest it. This is the princi- 
ple, and there is none more fatal to humanity and to truth. 
The human race knows all, hence there would be no more 
progress, no more developement; its testimony is a sort of 
divine right, before which genius and reason must be silent. 

I know that M. de la Menais believes that he has an- 
swered these objections, beforehand, by establishing two 
principles — the order of faith, that is to say, the authority of 
the human race, and the order of conception, that is to say, 
the labour of the intellect, which itself only becomes an 
authority by means of universal suffrage. But, one of two 
things must occur ; either the discoveries of the order of 
conception can change nothing in the belief of the human 
race, or this belief can be modified by the twofold operation 
of genius and lime; in the former case the human race is 
immovable, all improvement is prohibited to it, it remains 
with its idols and its slaves; in the second case, the monu- 
ment raised with so much care gives way at its foundation, 
and falls to the ground. Of what value is the testimony 
which one man may destroy ? Wherever there is uncer- 
tainty there is no longer authority. 

These two orders are, then, incompatible ; the activity of 
the one constantly tends to shake the power of the other. 
Copernicus, by arresting the course of the sun, like Joshua ; 
Jesus Christ, by overthrowing idols and destroying slavery 
— have proved that there were universal errors ; and from 
th at period no general opinion has been able to become the 
criterion of truth. 

The system of authority is but a fragment of the old 
school, one of the ruins made by Descartes, with this dif- 
ference, that it has been attempted to substitute the testi- 
mony of the human race for the testimony of the master, 
always the i-pse dixit. 

And, nevertheless, there is an immense fact which saps 
this syste.vi at its base, viz. that the lofty truths which at 
the present day are spread abroad on the earth, arrived at 
the reason of the multitude only through the intermedium 
of the reason of individuals. The masses know nothing 



188 DIVINE REASON. 

but that which they believe, and that which they believe 
they defend with all the eagerness of ignorance and faith. 
Thus Moses stood alone against his people ; Socrates alone 
against Greece ; Jesus Christ alone against the world ; on 
the one hand the human race, on the other a sage — a man 
— a god. O miserable condition of humanity ? I see a cross 
raised, executioners who prepare themselves, the universal 
testimony has been convicted of being in error, and thus 
revenges itself by punishments ! 



CHAPTER VI. 

OF DIVINE REASON. 

"Hors de Dieu tout est contingent: hors de lui rien n'existe que' par sa 
volonte, lui seul est necessairement, lui seul possede done en lui-meme la certi- 
tude," De jla Menais. 

To seek the principle of truth, is to seek an infallible 
reason. Let us then cease to interrogate human reason : 
infallibility is not in our nature. But it is in our nature to 
seek after truth, and here our very weakness becomes the 
source of our greatness. After having exhausted all the 
resources of his intellect, man raises himself from his no- 
thingness by means of the single idea of an infallible reason : 
he has not the power of comprehending it, but he has the 
power of perceiving it. In giving up the desire for truth, 
God has pointed out to us the luminous path which leads to 
himself. 

Oh! the destiny of man is beautiful! You speak to me 
of his misery; I will speak to you of his glory. The crea- 
ture is great to whom it is allowed to imagine questions to 
which a God alone can reply ! 

This is the invisible link which unites earth to heaven. 
On the one side, the innate desire for truth ; on the other, 
the complete inability of satisfying it without ascending to 
God. 

That which we ask in vain of human reason, will be 
decided by divine reason. 

But how are we to know divine reason? what represents 
it on earth? where has it left its impression? Is there 
but one divine reason? Which is the true God? is it the 
avenging God, the jealous God, or the God of love and 



UNITY OF GOD. 189 

pity? Impious questions; but which yet must be resolved, 
since our superstitions have caused us to mistake every 
thing, since man has altered even the attributes of the 
Divinity. 



CHAPTER VII. 

OF THE UNITY OF GOD. 

"La premiere chose qu'il faut apprendre c'est qu'il y'a un Dieu; et qu'il gou- 
verne tout par sa providence; ensuite il faut examiner quelle est sa nature: sa 
nature etant bien connue, il faut necessairement que ceux qui veulent lui plaire 
et lui obeir, fassent tous leurs efforts pour lui ressembler: qu'il soient libres, fide- 
les, bienfaisants misericordieux, magnanimes." Manuel d'Epictjete. 

Men have made gods after the image of nature, terrible 
or benevolent, according to the scenes which have been pre- 
sented to their eyes. To smiling fields, golden harvests, to 
the abundance of fruits, — altars of gratitude were raised : 
to arid wastes, dark forests, the devastation of storms, the 
fire of volcanoes, — the altars and sacrifices of fear. This 
is the origin of the two powers which divide the world : 
good and bad spirits, the genius of evil and the genius of 
good; gods and demons. 

Thus in the periods of barbarity, the isolation of nations, 
ignorance of the harmonies of the universe, astonishment at 
its phenomena, increased the number of the gods: in each 
temple there was a divinity: each divinity was the apothe- 
osis of a power of nature, or of an attribute of the Deity. 
To bring back all these powers, all these attributes to one 
only God, it was necessary to conceive him ; and how could 
such a conception be entertained without a divine revela- 
tion, or without the unexpected contemplation of the aggre- 
gate harmonies of the earth? A double prodigy, which 
God could not refuse to the human race : Moses received 
this truth from heaven, and Socrates from his genius. 

Divine spectacle! amidst all the nations buried in the 
darkness of idolatry and of slavery, a man inspired of God 
brings to light a truth which is to regenerate the world. 

And this truth, which Moses could not make his people 
understand, he left to the world : when all the religions de- 
nied it, he announced that the posterity of those who should 
believe in the one God would possess the earth, and for the 



190 INFLUENCE OF A SINGLE TRUTH 

accomplishment of this prediction his soul penetrated 
through the ages of a futurity of four thousand years. 

Even genius became annihilated before so lofty a destiny : 
there was then on the earth but one man, who in the pre- 
sence of the suns scattered over space could support the 
weight of this immense thought- — one only God ! 

And this man was likewise the only one, among the legis- 
lators of antiquity, who dared to proclaim this truth, and 
attach to it the civilization of the people. ^ 

Two thousand years elapsed, and Socrates again finds in 
the presence of idols the divinity unknown to civilized 
Greece ; he finds it, because it alone explains to him the 
universe. Where there is but one pervading mind, there 
must be but one God. The more Socrates examines nature, 
so low,. so contracted, and so immoral, beneath the laws of 
Venus and Jupiter, of Mercury and Juno, the more does it 
geometrise and expand itself, and soon escapes from him by 
its immensity. He no longer meets with gods, but he every 
where meets with laws. The harmony and unity of the 
universe reveals to him the unity of God. 



CHAPTER VII. 

INFLUENCE OF A SINGLE TRUTH UPON THE WORLD. 

One only God : the influence of this principle extends so 
far that even the imagination is astonished. It is the line 
drawn between ancient and modern people : we see arise 
from it a new knowledge, a new moral code, a new civiUzed 
world. 

Let the pagan divinities divide among themselves the 
heavens, the earth, and the waters, and the contest soon 
begins. Open Homer, and see the gods combating. This 
graceful mythology, which confides the fountains to the 
Naiades, the crops to Ceres, the flocks to Pan, thunder to 
Jupiter, only engenders trouble and confusion. Wherever 
the gods are divided, men arm themselves in their quarrels. 
How can rnan expect benefits from the source where he 
sees nothing but hatred, or harmonies from whence he sees 
nothing but contradictions, or foresight from whence there 
is only evil ? Idolatry was with the ancients the greatest 
obstacle to a knowledge of the laws of nature. Socrates 



UPON THE WORLD. ^ 191 

could only comprehend the wisdom of these laws by raising 
his ideas up to the unknown God ; or rather, it was by the 
discovery of their wisdom that he was led to the discovery 
of the unity. Unity is the essence of order ; and order reigns 
every where, since every where the world is preserved and 
renovated. 

This was the idea of Socrates; and that which was at 
that time the most sublime effort of a subhme genius, is at 
the present day the starting point of the most limited intel- 
lects. 

Thus the unity of the laws of nature leads us to the 
unity of God ; and the unity of God ordains the unity of 
the human race. Cast your eyes over the world of the 
ancients, you see it divided into hostile colonies, which 
have each their gods to avenge or to defend; religion di- 
vides instead of uniting them. Cast your eyes upon the 
modern world ; it remains divided into republics and king- 
doms, and yet religion acknowledges only one people, 
because there is only one God. This is a subUme spec- 
tacle, which all men do not yet understand; but the gene- 
ral comprehension of which will be the triumph of huma- 
nity. 

And each succeeding age is preparing this triumph. 
Nations will one day know that the same revelation which 
gives us a Father in heaven, gives us likewise brothers in 
all men. From that moment castes will be an impiety, and 
all wars a fratricide. It is thus that by the power of a 
single truth we arrive at the union of the human race. 

And let me not be accused of stating abstract ideas for 
facts. We enjoy the immediate consequences of this truth, 
in the establishment of religious liberty, and in the twofold 
abolition of concubinage and slavery: three principles un- 
known to the ancients, and of which the genial light radiates 
from all parts upon our new civilization. 

It is true that passions, prejudices, the spirit of sects 
and bodies, and national animosities, retard the progress of 
this light; but still it shines in the heart. of every civilized 
people: it is a necessity of their high state of intelligence; 
the principles which it enlightens are benefits or virtues, 
and every one may convince himself that the deviation from 
these principles is alone the cause of all our political and 
religious errors ; that is to say, of all the evils of which we 
complain at the present day. Let us take for an example a 



192 INFLUENCE OF A SINGLE TRUTH 

nation which thinks itself civilized, — Spain. I see abject 
superstition, a depraved clergy, a crowd which fasts, con- 
fesses, receives the communion, revenges itself with the 
poniard, and receives from the all-powerfulness of the priests 
an absolution which frees it from its remorse. One would 
say that this people only supported priests in order to per- 
mit themselves the crimes of hatred and assassination. 
There, as in ancient Egypt, God disappears beneath the 
multitude of his attributes — God to a Spaniard is the thirty 
thousand idols which are spread over the surface of the 
most Catholic kingdom. With superstitions as insensate 
as those of the pagans, Spain has less of civil liberty, and 
has in addition the priests. 

But even nearer to ourselves : in the very heart of France, 
a hundred leagues from the capital of Europe, the centre of 
civihzation, there are savage hordes, whose souls no ray 
has enlightened. There the god Teutates formerly reigned. 
The letter of the Gospel has been carried thither, but its 
spirit is unknown. I see there a people without ideas and 
without morality ; the adoration of images instead of the 
belief in God ; fanaticism and misery prostrated before 
coarse pictures representing portions of the body, — the 
liver, the heart, the arms, the feet, the smoking entrails of 
some divinity. It would seem that the ancient Druids still 
held possession of the land, and that being no longer able 
to mutilate man in order to offer him up to their god, they 
mutilate their god to present him piecemeal to the adora- 
tion of men. Here, then, are worthy objects of worship 
for a people who have churches, priests, bishops, and the 
Gospel. They are not allowed to elevate their souls to the 
idea of an only God, for this idea would break their chains, 
and redeem them from their degradation. 

This is a representation of the middle ages in the nine- 
teenth century. Whosoever wishes to find himself in the 
year 1200, should visit the hamlets of Lower Brittany. 
The East, with its slaves and its harems, offers nothing so 
degrading to humanity. And yet in Brittany, as in the 
East, the unity of God, this truth which cost Socrates his 
life, no longer carries death with it. Nations have received 
it, but they have not yet reflected upon it. " There is but 
one God," says the follower of Mahomet, without compre- 
hending the greatness of these words; — " there is but one 



UPON THE WORLD. 193 

God," says the poor inhabitant of Poullalouen, while pros- 
trated before the innages which are the objects of his idola- 
try; — "there is but one God," says the Spaniard, while 
imploring St. Dominic, St. Antony, and St. James of Com- 
postella : and yet in this single phrase the future civilization 
of Spain and of the East is comprised. In vain do pre- 
judices and superstitions endeavour to prevent us from 
attaining the goal; the road which brings us to it is opened. 
One Father in heaven, one family upon earth ! When this 
sublime truth shall be in the understanding of men, as it is 
at the present day in their mouths, the regeneration will be 
accomplished. 

In fact, all the barbarities which still degrade us as a 
civilized people, are created in the face of idols, and that 
which is created in the face of idols must disappear before 
God. 

It is' in the face of idols that the powerful have conse- 
crated their dominion over the weak, and divided men into 
two species, — the noble and the ignoble. 

It is in the face of idols that the ambitious have given 
themselves up to the lash, fasting, and cehbacy, in order to 
obtain riches and power. 

It is in the face of idols that barbarous hordes prostrate 
themselves for the first time after a battle, to render thanks 
to heaven for the blood which they have shed. 

But if, at the present day, a noble, a pontiff, or a war- 
rior, should present himself before the altar of the only 
God, would the noble say, " I am of another race than this 
crowd which thou hast created, separate me in heaven from 
those whom I have despised on the earth ?' Would the 
pontiff say, " I have refused the companion which thy wis- 
dom had bestowed upon me : bless me for having violated 
thy law, and for having condemned virgins to solitude and 
prostitution ?" 

That Csesar should decree fifteen days of thanksgiving in 
the temples of the gods at Rome, after having exterminated 
the Gauls, and sold by auction the inhabitants of Namur, — 
who, according to the statement presented to the Senate, 
amounted to fifty-three thousand persons, — this we can 
conceive ; he prayed before idols. But will the Christian 
warrior dare to sully the altars of Christ, in his song of 

13 



194 ATTRIBUTES OF THE DIVINITY. 

victory, by saying, " I am Cain ! bless me, O God, I have 
been killing my brethren." 

They still dare to do it, do you say ? Yes, but you are 
surprised that they should so dare, and you do not mark 
that they dare to do it without glory. What do I say? 
Already they can no longer dare it without shame. Look 
at Poland, and ask the world if a single voice of admira- 
tion responded to the ferocious cries of the conquerors. 
The barbarians ! they heard but the groans of Europe ; — • 
and whilst three kings divided among themselves, like rob- 
berSj the bloody members of the body, all the people who 
believed in God were alarmed at their impiety. 



CHAPTER IX. 

OF SOME ATTRIBUTES OF THE DIVINITY. • 

" Les vraies causes finales de la nature, ce sont les rapports avec notre ame, et 
avec notre sort imniortel. Les objets physiques eux-memes out une destination, 
qui ne se borne point a la courts existence de rhomme ici-bas. lis sont la pour 
concourir au developpement de nos pensees, et a Toeuvre de notre vie morale." 

Madame de Stael, L'Allemagne. 

" n ne s'agit pas de vouloir connoitre ce que Dieu cache, il suffit d'etre attentif 
a ce qu'il montre." ' Fenelon. Lettres. 

But what name must be given to this God, the Creator 
who manifests himself in the unity of his works '( Is he 
the God of pity or the God of vengeance ? Has he con- 
ceived in his bosom vice and crime 1 Will it be said that 
all the evils of humanity, all the disturbances of nature, 
diseases, poisons, plagues, war, are the presents of a bene- 
ficent Deity ? How can we recognise goodness in this 
chaos of misery and agony 1 If I refer to the earliest 
periods of the world, priests talk to me of the God of armies 
— the terrible, the avenging God. If I interrogate the 
nations, they look upon the bloody spots on their altars with 
exclamations of terror. If I appeal to the sages, I perceive 
a bitter smile on their lips. The most splendid geniuses 
succumb beneath the weight of so many mysteries. Others 
raise an impious forehead, and try to conceal their nothing- 
ness in the nothingness of incredulity. 

For these objections and these reasonings, I see two 
causes ; our greatness and our littleness. In our greatness 



ATTRIBUTES OF THE DIVINITY. 195 

we estimate the laws of nature, according to the exquisite 
sentiment of the grand and beautiful, which is in us; we 
appreciate this world in accordance with a secret revelation 
of the other; we apply to it the type of ideal perfection 
which IS placed in our souls, not in order to measure by it 
the things of earth, but to call us towards a more perfect 
creation. Our fault is, not in the study of the laws of this 
universe, but in wishing to regulate it according to a 
subhme sentiment which is not made for it. 

I hasten, therefore, to remark that our doubts and our 
objections serve but to elevate us. They prove that we 
bear within ourselves the type of a more perfect being. It 
is not a reminiscence ; it is a foresight, it is a promise. Hope 
and the heau ideal are the keys of a world which we are 
about to enter, since we have had a ghmpse of it. 

But if the sentiment of the beau ideal be a light, our 
objections and our reasonings are but darkness. We are 
at first surprised at their force ; then comes experience, and 
we are surprised at their weakness. How many times does 
It happen to us to blame an isolated fact for want of ele- 
vating ourselves to the comprehension of the whole ! A 
truth remains hidden; we deny it: nature conceals herself 
from our intelhgence, and we accuse her. What is there 
in all this ? A world given up to the genius of evil ? No. 
There is a man who blasphemes, because he cannot explain 
to himself the work of God. In order to justify nature 
from the accusations which are made against her at the 
present day, it will suffice to show what is become of the 
accusations which were formerly addressed to her. There, 
where disorders had been anticipated, we have received 
benefits ; where the eyes of our fathers saw only chaos, we 
can perceive wisdom and foresight. Does any one think 
that the sciences have nothing more to unfold ? it would be 
to think that we have nothing more to discover. The 
sciences have not disclosed alf, but that which they have 
disclosed has been decisive. It is a remarkable circum- 
stance, although it has not been remarked, that all their 
discoveries bring things back to order, and prove the laws 
of nature. All are the expression of power and the reve- 
lation of goodness. The genius of evil has nothing to gain 
by the progress of the sciences. Each discovery contracts 
still more its empire ; each ray of light presses down its 



196 ATTRIBUTES OP THE DIVINITY. 

darkness still deeper. It is an usurper who must fall from 
his throne, before the full light of truth. 

Philosopher, seize thy pen, here is a fine book to com- 
pose — a book of intelligence; a book of soul, in which 
God only will appear. Imagine a Fenelon or a Bernardin 
de St. Pierre collecting all the accusations of sophists 
against nature, and opposing to them from age to age the 
discoveries of science. It would be like a new creation. 
Between the globe of Pliny and the globe of Newton, there 
is many a gulf What a moral history of the universe, 
and what a glorious spectacle would be that of the human 
race freeing itself by degrees from its errors, and arriving 
at the knowledge of God, by the labour of its own intelli- 
gence ! 

I should like to see, on the one hand, chaos, darkness, 
the confusion of the elements, and of plants ; of plains and 
of mountains; the air, fire, and earth disputing with each 
other the dominion of the world, and leaving only to man, 
his nakedness and his misery ; (for, it is thus that Pliny 
and Lucretius represent the world to us ;) on the other 
hand, deserts, seas, and mountains, in accordance with the 
course of the winds, the fecundity produced by climates, 
and the harmonies of the earth and heavens. From the 
burning sands of Africa come the winds which warm our 
winters ; from the glaciers of the poles, the breezes which 
refresh our summers. Every where the elements called to 
their proper order, the seasons to their proper change, the 
earth to yield its fruits in due season. To the chaos of 
vegetation would succeed a botanical geography, which 
would unite all the people of the earth ; each country would 
possess its garlands of flowers and its fruits, each plant 
its country. One would contemplate with delight these 
vegetable substances, distributed by zones, as if upon the 
acclivity of a hill, and amidst this infinite multitude of forms 
and colours, ever varying according to the climates, the 
gramineous plants universally diffused over the earth, from 
the equator to the poles, and forming around the globe a 
circle of corn, for the nourishment of the human race. 

From these general harmonies, the author would descend 
to the most minute details of the creation. In them, close 
to us, is frequently found the cause of the most distant 
phenomena, — in a piece of amber the secret of thunder, in 



ATTRIBUTES OF THE DIVINITY. 197 

a drop of water the explanation of the rainbow, in a coal 
the diamond. A simple blade of grass, a grain of sand, 
have been impressed with the thought of God, and can 
relate his wonders. Seest thou this shapeless pebble which 
rolls from beneath thy feet ? it is the image of knowledge ; 
thou despisest it, and only remarkest its coarse particles ; 
another observes, studies it, and causes light to emanate 
from it. 

Enchanting pictures, unforeseen discoveries would ferti- 
lize each page of this history, in which truth would gra- 
dually come to supply the place of opinion. I would wish 
that all the wonders of modern science should be developed 
in it, in opposition to the physical and moral errors of the 
ancients. And who, for instance, does not know the accu- 
sations which have been made against Providence respect- 
ing the colour of negroes 1 Has it not been proved a 
hundred times that black absorbs all the rays of light, and 
that it absorbs all its heat ? By blackening the skin of a 
whole race of men, and casting them beneath the burning 
sun of Africa, nature has then done nothing but afflict them 
with torture ; a frightful combination, which is wanting in 
the hell of Dante. 

Open the Bible, and mark the descendants of the second 
son of Noah, cursed for the crime of their father. Their 
black skin is the mark of their condemnation, the eternal 
brand of their slavery, " Cursed be Canaan, he shall be the 
servant of the servant of his brethren."* And thus we 
have theologians quoting, arguing, cursing; the abjection 
of a whole race, justified by the sin of Ham. 

What is required in order to destroy a prejudice, to over- 
throw a malediction? To observe nature. If, during the 
rigours of winter, I visit the fields in which the corn was 
beginning to shoot forth, I see that all has disappeared 
beneath a covering of snow. I interrogate the husband- 
man, and I lament to see so frail a plant exposed to the 
mortal influences of ice and hoar-frost. He answers me, 
smiling, that God has provided against the calamity, and 
that the crop is in safety. He knows by experience that 
this white mantle thrown upon the earth, is like a warm 
covering, a winter garment, under the shelter of which 
Providence secures treasures of every season. 

* Genesis ix. 



198 ATTRIBUTES OP THE DIVINITY. 

Spring arrives, the woods, the orchards, the bushes be- 
come covered with blossoms, and all these blossoms have 
the whiteness of snow ; nature thus guards the fruits of the 
ensuing seasons. The cherry, the strawberry, the pear, 
the apple, arises from a flower white as alabaster, and the 
food of the little birds is sheltered from the cold beneath 
the light covering of the hawthorn bushes. 

If the frosts of spring sometimes destroy the fruits of the 
almond and peach tree, it is because their blossoms are red. 
This exception strikes me so much the more forcibly, inas- 
much as these two trees are in these latitudes far from 
their proper country, they belong to the clime of the East. 

In proportion as the hoar-frosts depart, the blossoms 
assume a darker hue, and in the heat of summer I see 
them all clothed in robes of varied beauty. 

Thus every where, white is opposed to the cold ; brown, 
red, and black, to heat. This general law is perpetuated 
in the colour of the human race, which is black beneath 
the rays of a tropical sun, and white in temperate regions. 

No condemnation hangs over you, poor Africans; if the 
doctors curse you, nature blesses you; if horrible pre- 
judices cast you into a horrible exception, nature, like a 
tender mother, includes you within the generality of her 
laws. 

The study of these phenomena, the approximation of 
these foresights, which are constantly repeated in vegeta- 
bles and in the human race, suffice to lead us to truth. It 
has also been attained by another road, and it is while 
seeking for the cause of dews, that the learned discovered 
the reason of the colour of negroes. We need not here 
explain the theory of radiating heat, but we may remark, 
that the experiments of naturalists always tend to justify the 
observations of true philosophers ; the one explains the pro- 
perties of colours, the other admires their employment in 
the great picture of the universe, and their combined 
science verifies at least this double experience; viz. that 
the stroke of a painter's brush suffices nature to refresh the 
inhabitants of the hottest climates, as well as to give warmth 
to the seeds and buds of the vegetable creation in the coldest 
regions. 

I conclude from all these observations, that colours, 
possess the property of retaining heat, or of allowing it to 



ATTRIBUTES OP THE DIVINITY. 199 

escape, according as they are more or less dark ; the white 
retains the heat, the black allows it a free passage ; white 
is then a warm garment, and black a cool garment ; both 
are bestowed by nature according to the necessities, the 
seasons, and the climates, and their wise distribution bears 
testimony to her foresight. 

A charming exception comes to confirm the rule. Be- 
neath these ■ hedges, all resplendent with their alabaster 
blossoms, the violet appears in the snow, clad in the dark 
colours of summer. Here is a contrast which appears to 
violate the law of nature, or to accuse her foresight. Let 
us not be in a hurry to condemn her. Our systems reduce 
themselves to monotonous classifications, because they 
admit of no exception. Nature, on the contrary, embel- 
lishes herself with exceptions, which so frequently come to 
destroy our systems. 

You observe that the violet conceals itself beneath its 
foliage; it has been made the emblem of modesty; it is, 
however, only the iapprehension of the cold which keeps it 
thus veiled. 

Physics teach us that all bodies radiate their heat to- 
wards the sky. If the sky be serene, it receives the heat 
without sending it back, and bodies on the earth become 
cold. Such is the cause of frost in the clear nights of 
spring ; but if clouds cover the atmosphere, the tempera- 
ture immediately changes; these clouds radiate towards 
the earth, as the earth radiates towards them ; that is to 
say, that they restore to the earth as much heat as they 
receive from it. This is the reason why the heat is so 
oppressive, and the air so heavy in the cloudy days of 
summer. Radiation takes place from heaven to earth, from 
earth to heaven ; the more the atmosphere is charged with 
humidity, the warmer is the weather. 

That which takes place on a large scale in the atmo- 
sphere, takes place on a small scale in the violet. It radiates 
towards the foliage which covers it, and the foliage radiates 
towards it. In this constant interchange the warmth is 
maintained. It is a second garment which nature throws 
over the first, but this garment warms without touching. 
It allows a free passage to the air, which agitates the 
flower, and brings us its perfume. Thus the violet is pre- 



200 STUDY OF GOD IN THE 

served from the cold, and its summer habits are but an 
additional charm which nature imparts to spring. 

As a general rule, nature has done nothing to render 
man unhappy, and when he laments, it is because, on the 
contrary, he is deprived of the goods which she lavishes 
upon the race. The prisoner complains of the loss of the 
liberty which he held from nature; the hungry man com- 
plains of the privation of the produce which she has caused 
to grow for all; the sick man asks her for health; the 
orphan, for his mother. In all these afflictions, I seek for 
the genius of evil, but I see only the conditions of our 
mortal life, or the absence of those benefits for which we 
are indebted to nature. 

It is good to notice the circumstance, that all the evils 
which do not depend upon our physical constitution arise 
from our ignorance. In order to remove them, our errors 
should have been removed ; but we have found it more 
convenient to accuse as their source I know not what evil 
genius, to which we deliver up the universe. Nature has 
opened her book to us, in which God himself has written 
his thoughts; and it is in the books of men, in works of 
ambition and of corruption, that we go to look for truth. 
This is the way in which truth has been lost upon the 
earth, — this is the way that the God of the universe, the 
infinitely good, just, and merciful has become the God of a 
small number ; the terrible, the jealous, the avenging, ex- 
terminating God. Fortunately, the work has preserved the 
name of the workman, and notwithstanding all the efforts 
of fanaticism ; this name, some syllables of which every 
people has repeated, is still found entire, in the benefits of 
nature, and in the prayer of the human race, " Our Father.^^ 



CHAPTER X. 

STUDY OF GOD IN THE WORKS OF NATURE. 

" Et son empire immense 
Nulle part ne finit, nulle part ne commence." 

Observe what passes in the regions of infinity, where 
the stars are multiplied like the sands on the sea-shore. 



WORKS OF NATURE. 201 

These stars, these suns, I can nneasure them without reach- 
ing them — I regulate their movements by means of hnes 
and figures. Geometry is the reason of God. Man is 
permitted to discover it in matter, and thus to ascend to 
his intellectual origin. But my soul is more vast ; the in- 
finity which it contemplates gives it the idea of an infinity 
which is beyond its contemplation. The only one of all 
created beings, man has been able to say : Perhaps ! — and 
this word in his mouth expresses a measureless and end- 
less power — perhaps each of these suns has a movement 
which is proper to it, as each of these planets pursues a 
difl^erent course ! perhaps the light from these constella- 
tions produces colours which are unknown to us! — perhaps 
these nebulae allow atoms to escape from them which 
diflfuse joy and delight, just as our sun bestows light and 
heat ! perhaps, also, these myriads of worlds are but the 
avenues to the abode of the incomprehensible Being who 
perceives them like dust at his feet. But it is only angels 
who have a glimpse of this divine spectacle; they employ 
eternity in studying it from sphere to sphere, from delight 
to delight. And yet it is given to us, weak creatures, to 
penetrate therein by thought ; we, who are lost upon this 
globe, which is itself lost in space, we may imagine that 
which we do not see : the wonders which God alone has 
been able to conceive. 

This correspondence between man and God; these worlds, 
these suns placed between us and the Creator, like the 
luminous steps which lead up to the threshold of the celes- 
tial temple, astonish my soul without overpowering it. I 
pass from admiration to love, and from love to prayer. 
This testifies at the same time my weakness and my great- 
ness ! All the creatures which surround me follow their 
instincts and fulfil their destiny, — I alone pray. Animals 
see nothing of that which I perceive, hear nothing of that 
which I hear; and because T am the only creature that 
prays, I know the object of my being. If man had not 
a soul for prayer, the world would be as if he were not: 
there would be nothing between annihilation and God. 

Thus we see two intelligences which correspond to each 
other — one in heaven, the other upon earth. The all- 
powerful Being has deigned to manifest himself to his 
creature. Our soul is a temple in which he has impressed 



202 STUDY OF GOD IN THE 

his thought ; in nature, as well as in ourselves, his exist- 
ence is revealed by intelligence, pov^^er, and goodness. In 
order that there should be power, there must be creation ; 
in order that there should be intelligence, there must be 
relations and harmonies; in order that there should be 
goodness, there must be foresight and benefits. From 
the existence of all these conditions, I may infer the ex- 
istence of God: the attributes are only present, because he 
exists. And even should a part of the laws of nature be 
inexplicable to me — even if a multitude of relations and 
harmonies should be beyond the scope of my intelligence, 
it will suffice me to have seized some of them in order to 
estabhsh ray certainty, for my certainty need not arise from 
a profound knowledge of nature, which belongs to none, 
but from the understanding of some of its laws. If fore- 
sight and goodness are evident in one instance, I may infer 
that they exist in all other instances. How could they 
exist in one, if not in all ? The universe is but one work, 
its totality is but one creation, its laws are but one law : 
order exists only in unity. But the genius of evil could not 
produce any good ; if, therefore, the good shows itself in 
some parts of the work, it is every where. 

God exists : this is a sufficient reason for the world to 
be. A sublime truth ! a light of nature and intelligence ! 
God exists, and his attributes are, — power, since he 
creates ; foresight, since he preserves ; and goodness, since 
we live. God exists, and the light which renders him 
visible shines only in the soul of man, who seeks in heaven 
for the cause of that which he sees upon the earth. To 
multiply suns in space, worlds around these suns, exist- 
ences in these worlds ; to give them light and darkness, 
pleasure and pain, Hfe and death, to cause to spring forth 
the harmonies of these contrasts and the love of these har- 
monies, — such is the visible work of God ! And we, the 
witnesses of his power and the proofs of his bounty, — we 
who enjoy his earthly benefits, — we are permitted to medi- 
tate upon that which we do not see, to rest our hopes upon 
that which we cannot touch ; — we, weak creatures, believe 
in that which is invisible, we implore that which is un- 
known. There is in us a something which seeks infinity 
without conceiving it, which aspires to eternity without 
comprehending it, and which raises itself up to God by 



WORKS OF NATURE. 203 

love! Therein lies the proof of our high destiny; love, 
this sentiment which nothing here below can satisfy, raises 
itself up to God only because it is immortal. 

Thus, from all parts in nature, God comes to man in 
order that man should come to God. If my regards 
plunge into the heavens, I recognise him. If I descend to 
the lowest degrees of the creation, I still contemplate him. 
It seems to me that I hear a voice arise from out of each 
blade of grass : " Thou seekest God," it says ; " he is 
around thee, and in thee. Interrogate thy soul, thou wilt 
find him there ; interrogate the smallest insect, it will reveal 
to thee the greatest foresight. I am but a blade of grass 
in a meadow ; I shall only live a few days, and yet it is for 
me that the winds sweep over the seas ; it is for me that 
they bring back on their wings the most refreshing dews, 
and that the stream perpetually flows from the mountain's 
side. I am but a blade of grass, and notwithstanding, thou 
seest I partake of the benefits of the great phenomena of 
the universe. What an harmonious concurrence between 
the winds, the clouds, the sea, the sun, man, a fly, a quad- 
ruped, and a frail plant that lives but for a day! My 
history is that of the whole of nature. He who knows my 
secrets, knows the word of the creation; whosoever knows 
how I exist, will have heard the voice of God. Between 
nought and life — the being and not being — there are, power, 
intefligence, and will ; between life and life, the being and 
the being, there is relationship. God is every where." 

Such is, to him who knows how to understand it, the 
language of the grass of the field. Thus speaks the grain 
of sand— thus speak the trees : thus all creation expresses 
itself. 

And if we ascend from these details to the whole, from 
a plant to the earth, from the earth to heaven, we see with 
astonishment all these particular foresights resolve them- 
selves into the combinations of a general foresight, which 
unites God to man by benefits, and man to God by the 
heart. It is the celestial chain of Homer ! Each of its 
links is a world suspended in infinity: it traverses through- 
out all the interval which separates the power which 
creates, from the soul which contemplates. 

Thus each study reveals to me a foresight, each foresight 



*204i STUDY OF GOD IN THE 



1 



a benefit, of which the germ comes from the hand of God, 
and of which the fruit ripens in the hand of man. 

And yet philosophers lament over the misery of man. 
They exclaim that animals are born armed and clothed 
with shells, hair, and fur, whereas man is cast naked and 
defenceless upon the earth. Yes, man is cast naked upon 
the earth; thou, wonderful genius, w^ouldst have him re- 
semble animals? Let thy lofty intellect, then, preside over 
this new work ! Warm this frail creature, supply its wants 
with that w^hich heaven has refused: correct the work of 
God ! Very well ! suppose man to be now sheltered from 
the frost, perpetually covered with the furred coat of the 
fox, the plumage of the swan, or the skin of the lion. Ah 1 
miserable being, thou hast deprived him of a world ! his 
nakedness gave him all climates, thy foresight has restricted 
him to the degrees of latitude. Thus, thou didst accuse for 
want of comprehending, and thy pity was but blindness. 
Man exists every where, and he can exist every where only 
because he is by nature naked. Let him, then, be born 
naked to reign over the globe; let him appropriate to him- 
self for clothing the skins of animals and the fibres of plants ; 
this is not a proof of abandoning, but an act of power; he 
does but take possession of his empire; though, as if to 
draw us to himself, God wills that the oris^in of this 
empire should bear a reference to our destitute condition. 
Praise, then, be to him whom darkness and ignorance alone 
accuse. 

Animals are diffused over the globe — man alone possesses 
it. Nature gives to the one a tree, to another a meadow ; 
to some a plant, to others a forest. By clothing animals 
with shells and furs, God has said to them as to the sea 
— " Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther." And this law 
is calculated upon so profound a foresight, that order is 
maintained amidst an apparent confusion ; and that life is 
preserved and renewed amidst a general conflict. These 
conflicts, these instincts, these arms, these coverings, this 
nakedness, constitute the harmony of the world. 

And mark ; in this vast whole, man always re-appears as 
the object of creation ; in the north, in the south ; beneath 
the tropics, in every latitude, in every climate, a domestic 
animal attends to relieve him and to share his labours. The 
horse and the ass on the plain ; the cow on the mountains ; 



WORKS OF NATURE. 205 

the goat among the rocks; the reindeer amidst the snows; 
amidst the sands, the camel; in the marsh, the buffalo; the 
dog in all parts of the world. Thus, man travels over the 
earth, and every where he meets with a servant and brings 
witfi him a friend. And further, the strength of animals is 
modified according to the exigences of climates. In India, 
for instance when man languishes exhausted by the heat of 
the sun, nature has placed the elephant, as if she propor- 
tioned the powers of the servant to the weakness of the 
master. 

Thus are animals distributed over the earth. Some, 
however, by annual migrations pass from one country to 
another. The air and the sea are filled with these travel- 
ling cohorts ; and man, the object of all this care, blesses the 
unknown law which by a twofold foresight brings perpe- 
tually to our shores the fishes of the north, and to our fields 
the birds of the south. 

And this aggregation of benefits has been placed out of 
the reach of our ambitions and of our passions. Man may 
lay waste the earth, but he cannot prevent the ground from 
being productive, the sun from fecundating, or rivers from 
fertilizing. 

Povi^er and foresight; such are the primary attributes of 
God. These attributes testify to this greatness: he gives 
life, and he preserves it. This is what he owed to himself 
in this immense creation, for he owed something to himself, 
after having given himself a spectator. 

But if power and foresight extend even beyond this, — if 
God be pleased to bestow upon his work treasures which 
are destined solely to embellish it, — if he lavish upon it 
pleasures, of which the object is neither' creation nor pre- 
servation, but happiness! what terms, O God, can express 
the attributes of thy munificence? what human tongue is 
worthy of naming and blessing thee? Man is so poor, O 
God, that he can only offer to thee that which thou hast 
bestowed upon him ; and yet the most sublime proof of this 
goodness, which has no name upon earth, is it not that a 
thing of nought can raise itself even up to thee by gratitude 
and by love? 

Yes, God does more than bestow existence, he does more 
than preserve it ; he embellishes it and renders it full of delights 
and happiness. Observe the multitude of pleasures, in some 



206 STUDY OF GOD IN THE 

measure superfluous, which he attaches to all our senses ; 
or, rather, how faculties are awakened in us which have no 
other object than pleasure ! Say, even if musical harmony 
were not to exist, would the ear be less fitted to enable us 
to understand ideas'^ Was there any necessity, in order to 
show us objects, to lavish upon them colours, forms, and 
perspectives, and to render all these harmonies visible and 
enchanting by the exquisite sentiment of the beautiful 1 Say, 
would not the sense of smell perform its office, even were it to 
remain insensible to the varied odours of fruits and flowers? 
and might not the delicacy of taste be lessened without its 
ceasing to be the stimulus of hunger? The pictures of the 
country, the melody of the nightingale, thy inspirations, O 
Beethoven ! the perfume of the strawberry, the juice of the 
peach ; all these divine harmonies, all these delicate savours, 
all these ethereal emanations, seized, chosen, perceived, and 
analyzed by taste, lavished upon us, and infinitely varied by 
nature; heightened and multiplied by genius; this is the 
work of magnificence and goodness ! Life would still be a 
benefit without these benefits, which superabound. Where- 
fore would so many pleasures be added to so much power, 
if it were not in order to render goodness visible 1 In these 
benevolent prodigalities God has placed his attributes. It is 
by them that he declares to us that happiness is the spec- 
tacle in which he delights. 

But when from the physical we pass to the moral world, 
w^hat a variety of emotions and sentiments do we not per- 
ceive ! It is neither the cries of pain nor those of joy which 
transport us : they excite at most some sensations of pity or 
of pleasure. It is the noble and generous sentiments, those 
which belong to a superior nature, which expand the soul 
or which find it out: it is the disinterested love of men, and 
piety towards God. I more especially admire how the art 
of expressing them by speech developes and varies their 
emotions ; so that if man had only imagined language, or 
if he had not received it from the Creator, these sentiments 
would remain useless in our souls. This is the reason why 
great writers charm us, — this is the reason why great poets 
elevate us, — this is the way, by a stroke of their genius, in 
which they impart to the vulgar crowd the devotedness of the 
Gracchi for their country, or the enthusiasm of Socrates for 
virtue. 



WORKS OF NATURE. 207 

And yet more ; the sentiments of infinity, glory, and im- 
mortality, are mixed up with all the sensations of man. 
Amidst the attractions of a terrestrial life, they detach us 
on a sudden from that which we have most desired, and lead 
us to death by the attractive prospect of an immortal life. 
It is these sentiments which throw a majesty over ancient 
monuments, and a celestial pity over virtue in misfortune. 
It is they which give so much activity to our hopes, so 
much sensibility to our adieus, and so much strength to our 
regrets. Thus, the delightful impressions of taste and of 
sentiment in the arts and in eloquence being accidentally and 
almost instinctively seized by great artists in every depart- 
ment, are invariable laws of nature, a prodigality of her 
gifts. Their source is not in matter. Infinity has another 
origin than sensation, transporting it beyond the domain of 
time. As a ray of the sun which has made its way through 
the dark clouds lights up the verdant meadows on the hori- 
zon, and exhibits to us a radiant prospect, so, in like man- 
ner, infinity, this ray of the divinity which shines in the 
darkness of our souls, heightens our earthly enjoyments, and 
opens to an ephemeral creature the perspectives of eternity. 

Well ! these pleasures of the soul, this delicacy of taste 
and sentiment, man could live, and even live happily, 
without experiencing them. Nature lavishes them on him 
as a superabundance, as proofs of her munificence and her 
benevolence ; they are the pleasures of the other life brought 
down into this. By this means, also, God has declared to 
us that happiness is the spectacle which he loves. Every 
where in the creation I read these words : magnificence, 
foresight, goodness. God notifies them to us in an univer- 
sal language; he wills that the human race should hear 
them ; for truth is no more the appanage of a locality or 
of a sect, than the benefits of nature are the property of a 
nation ; whence I infer that, that only is true upon the earth 
which God has expressed to all men, and that he speaks to 
all men of his works. This is a principle without exception. 

A thing is then true, not because it is supported by the 
testimony of the doctors, not because it presents itself to us 
with the assent of the human race ; it is true because it is 
the thought of God as expressed in the laws of nature. 

The eyes of all men may see these laws, and no human 
power can change them. Thus our reason discovers the 



208 THE LAWS OF NATURE. 

principle of certainty. It is independent of all human 
powers. The criterion of truth lies only in the immutable 
and the eternal. 



CHAPTER XI. 

SEARCH AFTER TRUTH IN THE LAWS OP NATURE IMMUTABILITY 

OP THIS CRITERION. 

OP ORDER THE FIRST LAW OP NATURE. 

"II ne faut qu'enoncer ces idees pour en faire sentir toute I'evidence." 

Ancillon sur V Amour de la Vdrite. 

In order to avoid false interpretations, which are always 
dangerous in inquiring into a similar subject, we will define, 
once for all, the meaning which we attach to the word 
nature. 

Nature is the work of God. 

The laws of nature are the established order in this 
work ; they are the thought of God rendered visible to our 
mortal eyes. 

By showing us what God has done, they teach us what 
God wills. 

To study nature is, then, to seek for the will of God in a 
book written by the very hand of God. There, no errors, 
no falsifications, are possible : the revelation is universal, 
and the book which contains it opens itself resplendent with 
glory beneath the eyes of the human race. 

But how am I to know these laws of nature? Do they 
exist within me, or are they external ? Am I to consider 
as a law of nature the impetuosity of my desires ? Am I 
to yield to inclinations which fascinate me ? to pleasures 
which tempt me'( to those devouring passions which are 
likewise a law of nature, and a voice so energetic, that it 
too frequently silences all other considerations '( These are 
important questions which agitate the world, and to which 
certain sophists do not blush to return an answer which 
would precipitate us lower than the brute. 

No, no, the abuse of our faculties is not a law of nature ; 
for every where in our excesses we meet with bitterness 
and disgust. The disorders of the soul, and the evils which 



THE LAWS OF NATURE. 209 

afflict the body, sufficiently warn us when we violate the 
law of nature. 

Let us state the principles. 

The abuse of our faculties proves only one fact: our 
moral liberty. 

But, from the existence of this liberty, we may perceive 
the necessity of the rule. 

In animals, it is God who marks out the rule, and this 
rule is a law which no power can infringe. Animals are 
not free. 

In man, on the contrary, it is himself who traces out the 
rule, and voluntarily places limits to his powers. 

He is the only one of all created beings on whom this 
necessity is imposed ; in, the first place, as a condition of 
his existence, and, subsequently, as a condition of his 
greatness. 

This is the way in which, from the power of doing evil, 
the necessity of doing good has arisen for the advantage of 
humanity; and it is there that the law of nature must be 
sought for. 

Thus, order is the law of nature; the gratification of a 
vice, the excesses of passion,, are always a disorder. 

The law of nature for man, is the harmony of the phy- 
sical and moral, of the intellectual and the spiritual being, 
and not the isolated predominance of any one part of 
himself. 

The body should no more be disassociated from the soul 
than the soul should be disassociated from the body. To 
render man incomplete is to debase him. 

Every thing which is offensive to the morality and dig- 
nity of man is oflfensive to the law of nature, which requires 
before every thing else our morality and our dignity. 

These principles are mathematical. 

Mathematical operations induce certainty, only because, 
with respect to a given subject, they always present the 
same figure. From this results an eternal order, of which 
figures are but the expression. 

In morals, all corruption brings with it its inevitable 
consequences : trouble, pain, confusion, abasement, death. 
This is a point of mathematical certainty, and from it 
results an eternal order, of which the laws of nature are 
the expression. 

14 



210 THE LAWS OF NATURE. 

The laws being found and fixed, the perception of truth 
becomes easy. 

The laws of nature are of two kinds ; 1st, those which 
exist in us, and which are in us alone ; that is to say, they 
are the product of the faculties of our soul ; and 2dly, those 
which arise externally to us, that is to say, which regulate 
the physical universe. The first are few in number ; we 
will mention five of them — 

1. The sentiment of the Divinity. 

2. The sociability of the human race. 

3. And its perfectibility. 

The law of perfectibility is joined in our souls to two 
other important laws, viz. 

4. Man is always naturally incHned to that which is 
grand and beautiful. 

5. Truth is always found in that which is most grand 
and beautiful. 

The second kind, that is to say, the laws which arise 
externally to ourselves, are more numerous; they are 
inevitable so long as they are applied to matter ; and 
moral as soon as they attach themselves to man. In other 
terms, from each physical law of nature God causes a 
moral law to emanate which our soul alone can compre- 
hend. It is the light of the world ; it shines amidst our 
ignorance and our passions, as a lighthouse built on the 
sea-shore shines amidst storms and darkness. 

In the absence of any complete code, I will endeavour, 
to make some sketches. I will write the first pages of a 
book, wherein all the ideas shall be those of God, and I . 
will translate these divine ideas into a human language, 
without enthusiasm, without colouring, and rich only in the 
exposure of falsehood. I will exhibit the sun as contrasted . 
with the shade, and hfe as contrasted with annihilation. I 
would then write on the frontispiece of the book — 

All that which comprises merely the interests of a man, 
of a body, or of a nation, is not the law of nature. 

The invariable character of the law of nature is universal 
aptitude — {convenance.) 



A MORAL LAW OF NATURE. 211 



CHAPTER XII. 

THE SENTIMENT OF THE DIVINITY A MORAL LAW OF NATURE. 

" Nous avons besoin parrai nos erreurs, non d'un philosophe qui dispute, raais 
d'un Dieu qui nous determine dans la recherche de la verite." 

BossuET — Sermons. 

All the phenomena of nature reveal a power received, 
and an impulsion given. They have an action, but no will; 
and each action has its rule which constitutes the duration 
of things, while the aggregate of all the rules constitutes 
universal order. 

These rules are at once so precise and so constant, that 
it is sufficient for a man of genius, by seizing a single link, 
to be able to imagine the whole chain. The pupil who 
tried to deceive Linneus, by presenting to him a plant 
composed of the fragments of several other plants, did not 
remember that the deception was impossible, because, in the 
eyes of the master, it was opposed to the organic laws of 
nature. All the forms, all the movements of matter develope 
themselves geometrically, and science sums them up by 
lines, figures, affinities, and attractions. 

Place in the hands of Cuvier an unknown bone, and his 
genius will define from it the nature of the entire animal. 
There Hved a young man, who by the sole appreciation of 
the attractive forces necessary for the movement of the 
stars, and for the fixity of the sun, dared to state that 
several planets were still wanting in our solar system, and 
from his closet he boldly pointed out in the heavens the 
place where Herschell shortly afterwards sought for and 
discovered them. 

This young man, who calculated so well the powers of 
the sun, was Kant. At a later period he penetrated into 
the darkness of metaphysics, and illuminated the human 
soul with the divine light which had guided him in the 
heavens. 

From the facts which have preceded, the following two- 



212 



SENTIMENT OF THE DIVINITY— 



fold principle may be deduced. 1st. That matter is not 
free. 2d. That the laws which influence it, indicate an 
intelligence which does not exist in it. We do not at the 
present moment seek what this intelligence is. It is suffi- 
cient for us to know, that, from the beginning of things, 
matter has been subjected to a power of which it has con- 
stantly preserved the impress, and by which it has been 
regulated. We have called this power, this will, a law of 
nature. 

One exception, however, presents itself. Man, as a 
moral being, is freed from the laws which enchain the 
world. He is so free, that one would think that he was 
forsaken. The disorders of the human race, and the order 
of the universe, prove at the same time the Uberty and the 
law. Observe the entire mass of created beings. Each 
species enters at birth upon a path which it must necessarily 
follow. Their course is decreed beforehand in the book of 
nature. Man alone, though subject to the laws of matter, 
yet remains free to yield to his passions, or to subdue 
them ; to lay down a principle for himself and to obey it. 
Nothing prevents, nothing obliges him ; he can say yes or 
no ; go, or not go ; do, or not do ; live, or not live. Here 
is either a fatal liberty which precipitates us from crime to 
crime, or else a celestial liberty which incites us to virtue. 
Seize this crown, O mortal ! thy liberty is thy supreme 
power here below, and imm.ortality in heaven. 

Free amidst this submissive world, thou canst receive as 
a light the divine thoughts which are not imposed upon 
thee as a law. God, in placing thee in the midst of his 
work, has opened for thee the book of truth. He constantly 
unfolds before thee the ever-varying pages of this book, 
wherein he has engraved, in immortal letters, what he is, 
and what he wills. And these pages express the same 
thoughts and speak the same language at either extremity 
of the world ; they comprise but one religion, one truth, 
and one love. The conditions of existence are not then the 
same for man as for animals ; the life of animals is but the 
fulfilling of a will which is not in them, and from which 
they cannot escape ; the life of man is the submission to 
the law which he himself makes ; but he must lay down 
this law^ for himself; he must ascertain the bounds of evil, 
since he alone has the power of doing evil. God imposes 



A MORAL LAW OF NATURE. 213 

upon him this sole obligation ; but he attaches to it the 
existence and the prosperity of the species. 

The necessity of regulating himself is the first law 
which calls man to virtue ; he is led to it by his wants, by 
his interests, by all the faculties of his intellect and of his 
soul. 

Such is the origin of the moral and legislative codes 
which divide mankind between them ; they are a necessity 
of our nature; one of the laws of our being and the evi- 
dence of our greatness. We must thank Heaven that it 
has made the moral existence of man the irretrievable con- 
dition of his physical existence. 

Thus, this law is fulfilled in a manner more or less 
general over all the inhabited earth. Wherever you shall 
meet with two families, you may be sure that there is an 
established rule ; and this rule is not, as it has been stated, 
an attempt on the liberty of man, but it is, on the contrary, 
the proof and the testimony of this liberty ; and still more, 
it is the accomplishment of a law. 

Thus the morality of man is the proof of his liberty, just 
as his liberty is a proof of his immortality. 

We have said that matter is not free ; and yet man is 
free ; there is then something in man which is not matter ; 
this is the way in which his liberty testifies to his immor- 
tality. 

Observe, that if nature does not subject man to any law, 
she shows him on all sides the laws to which she is sub- 
jected. She establishes a harmony between these laws and 
the faculties of our soul, and she forces us by this means to 
ascend to God, the eternal source of truth. 

The fixed point of the moral world is God. Our souls 
must seek and contemplate him. 

Beyond this, man only feeds himself with illusions and 
falsehoods, and his vast intelligence serves only to precipi- 
tate him into nothingness. Thus, the sentiment of the 
Divinity is the first moral law of nature ; it is as the in- 
stinct of our being, and this instinct expresses itself in all 
the forms of worship which prevail throughout the world. 
We do not here judge of these forms of worship, which are 
more or less enlightened, more or less barbarous. We 
assemble them, as forming the voice of the human race ; 
and proving the sentiment, that is to say, the law. 



214 SENTIMENT OF THE DIVINITY — 

Those who think that God can only be known by means 
of revelation, do not consider that the revelation is renewed 
at each birth. The temple of God is neither in this globe 
of earth, nor in those suns of fire ; neither in time, space, 
nor infinity ; it is in the human soul. We see God external 
to ourselves, only because he is in us. In fact the spectacle 
of nature comes from nature to man from without, inwards ; 
but it brings with it nothing but pictures. The thought of 
God, on the contrary, goes out from man to nature : from 
within outwards ; but it carries with it life and power. 
Thus, the thought of God is in this world only because man 
has placed it there. This is the reason why it is universal ; 
its source is the whole human race. Wherever there is a 
^ man, God is manifested, God appears. 

If you wish to know the true character of the Divinity, 
interrogate neither the forms of religion nor theologians. 
Leave to all people their forms, observe the sentiment at 
its origin, in the days of innocency, and at its point of 
perfection in the lights of wisdom ; these two extremes 
meet in the same revelation ; a sentiment of pure love ; the 
only incense of the soul which is worthy of God. 

The sentiment of the divinity is then the first moral law 
of our nature ; without it we should see nothing, we should 
know nothing, we should understand nothing. The torch 
is lighted up in the depth of our soul, and casts its luminous 
reflection over man and the universe. 

In vain is the objection made that this sentiment not 
being universal, since there are atheists, cannot be a law 
of nature. This objection does not affect our position ; one 
may lose the eyes of the soul as w^ell as the eyes of the 
body; moral blindness is not more rare than physical 
blindness. Hence, what becomes of the argument 1 Shall 
the incredulity of the blind man who sees not the light be 
called in testimony against the existence of the sun ? 

To deny the existence of light is not to destroy it : it is 
simply saying that one does not possess organs which see 
the light : it is to declare oneself incomplete. 

And in fact what is an atheist? A man without all the 
faculties which raise man to God. But these faculties 
exist: witness Socrates, Fenelon, Newton, Bernardin de 
St. Pierre — witness the whole human race. What a sad 
mutilation has this man then performed upon himself! To 



A MORAL LAW OP NATURE. 215 

deny God, he must have cut off from his being the senti- 
ment of the beautiful, of which the model is not found here 
below ; the sentiment of infinity, which earth cannot satisfy ; 
the moral sentiment, of which the reward must be in another 
life. This unhappy being will have obliterated and stifled 
all ; even his conscience, since conscience is a revelation 
of the invisible power ; even his reason, since reason ex- 
plains nothing without the assistance of a first mover. He 
is, then, such as he has made himself, reduced to the cold 
intelligence of which he is so proud, but which, however, 
he shares with animals : there is only the faculty of deny- 
ing which separates him from them. 

Thus deprived of his divine faculties, man is no more 
than a portion of matter, borrowed for a time from the 
globe which he inhabits. He weighs here below only the 
weight of his attraction towards the earth ; he compre- 
hends only the visible, and seeks only the finite. We may 
imagine that we see in him the angel of the legend, who, 
for having attached himself too strongly to the things of 
the earth, found on a sudden his wings fall powerless, and 
lost at the same time the power and the will of taking his 
flight towards heaven. 

If, then, the man who repels the idea of God is an incom- 
plete being, — if by raising an impious hand against himself, 
he cuts off all that which elevates him above animals, — it 
must nevertheless be confessed that the sentiment of the 
divinity is a law of our nature, and that it is precisely the 
law which constitutes us as men. 

This is the origin of religions. God himself has placed 
the foundations of all the temples of the world in the 
human soul, by causing to arise in it the sentiment which 
reveals him. It is this universal sentiment which consti- 
tutes the great human family, and makes all nations but 
one people. The unity of the human race becomes esta- 
blished by the light of the unity of God. 

In order fully to understand the bearings of this law, it 
must be studied in the moral and political institutions of 
the universe of which it is the indestructible basis. Every 
where man establishes a power against, his evil passions, 
and a reward for his virtues. He raises monuments to it 
in his codes, in his philosophy, in his sciences; he pub- 
lishes it even while denying it. The sophists who attempt 



2^16 SOCIABILITY : 

I 

to degrade us, never fail to bring forward in proof of their 
argument human infirmities and misery. It is the proof of 
man's weakness and decay, say they. No, no : it is the 
proof of the decay of the flesh, and of all flesh. The stamp 
of man, the law of his nature, is not the law which anni- 
hilates him, but the law which causes him to live. Let the 
gates of eternity no longer hide us from the light ; let them 
open before the man who desires to see his God. 

We dare to say, that whoever denies the truth, not only 
isolates himself from God, but isolates himself likewise from 
man, — to separate himself from heaven, is to separate him- 
self from humanity. 

Let us then boldly engrave on the first page of our code 
— The sentimentof the Divinity: the first moral law of the 
human race. 



CHAPTER XIIL 



SOCIABILITY A MORAL LAW OF NATURE. 

■" II faut juger de la nature par le fini on perfection ou elle tend." 

Aristote, Politique. 

The love of God cannot exist without the love of men, 
or rather it is because there is a God that men love one 
another: hence arises sociability — the second law of na- 
ture; which imparts movement to the world at the same 
time that it subjects it to our domination. 

For, and this is well worth noticing, in the beginning of 
things men were united by love. Family ties are the true 
origin of society: then came human interests, more or less 
extensive, more or less generous: they drew the bonds 
more closely together: they assisted to fulfil, but they did 
not make the law, and they were even sometimes opposed 
to it. Sociability is then the love of God and of men. Seek 
not the laws of nature in narrow passions and isolated in- 
terests; seek them in all that is most pure and great. They 
are all expanded over the human race, and extend from the 
human race to God. 

All is foreseen around us and within us ; all is combined 
for the accomplishment of this law; the isolated ^nan can 



A MORAL LAW OF NATURE. 217 

do nothing : he does not even experience the desire of his 
own well-being. The arts, sciences, philanthropy, lofty- 
moral ideas, are all the fruits of civilization and the work 
of society. Man must have companions and rivals; a town, 
a country, a world. When he has not all these his intellect 
slumbers, his soul becomes torpid, he is incomplete. 

The savage state is contrary to nature : it circumscribes 
every thing, because it creates nothing. To the savage 
the forest is his country; his tribe is the human race; his 
God is an idol, or a piece of wood. The savage is neither 
a man by his intelligence nor by the developement of his 
soul. Sociability is therefore a law, for it renders man 
complete. 

Let us not then say that the savage state is the law of 
nature. All the eloquence of Rousseau cannot prove that 
the life of a CafTre or of a Mohican is not the most narrow 
circle of the soul and of human thought. If creation have 
an aim, it can only be in the developement of that which it 
gives ; thus, the state of nature for the tiger will be the 
wild state ; the natural state for man will be society. 

The error of Rousseau is, to have confounded the wild 
state with the state of nature. He did not perceive that 
the natural state in animals which have no soul is an in- 
stinct ; that is to say, a life already marked out : whereas 
the natural state for man who has not merely instinct is 
the developement of the faculties of the soul and of the 
intellect; that is to say, a life not yet marked out, and 
which may be varied in an infinite manner in each in- 
dividual. The more, therefore, man shall be enlightened, 
the nearer will he approach to the state of nature, or rather 
to the state of his nature which is the developement of all 
his faculties. What is there, in fact, between civilized man 
and nature? ignorance and prejudices, which civilization 
tends to destroy. What is there between nature and man 
in the savage state ? a still greater mass of errors and 
misery, which the savage state tends to perpetuate. That 
which separates the civilized from the savage man are the 
sciences, without which we should know nothing of the 
work of God, or of the love of our neighbour; without 
which we should again fall into a state of war between 
man and man, tribe and tribe, nation and nation; and lastly, 
the knowledge of an only God, which establishes the human 



218 sociability: 

confraternity, and without which we should die in the 
superstitions of the worshippers of idols, and amidst the 
horrors of cannibalism. 

Do you not perceive that in the savage the best qualities 
of the soul remain dormant, while his most terrible animal 
faculties are developed with a frightful energy ? The savage 
man requires the qualities of the wolf, of the tiger, the lion, 
the serpent; all the ferocity, all the instinct of the brute; 
and without these he is in danger of perishing. The social 
man requires, on the contrary, pity, humanity, charity, all 
the faculties of the intellectual and religious being, and 
"without which he would again fall into the savage state. 
Would you dare to say, that those are not the nearest to a 
state of nature, who are nearest to God and man 1 

The savage state is not then the state of nature, but 
rather a state opposed to nature. In the absence of other 
proofs, it will suffice to refer to the horrible misery which 
decimates the wandering tribes of North America. John 
Tanner has drawn a picture of it, not as a mere traveller, 
but after thirty years sojourn in these deserts, where he 
himself lived the life of a savage. This life, to which poets 
and philosophers have ascribed so many charms, is the life 
of the brute, softened only by some sentiments of pity and 
hospitality. Beyond this there is nothing else that is worthy 
of man. The day of the savage is passed like that of the 
animal, in seeking his prey, without any other thought. 
Intelligence seems to have been bestowed upon him only in 
order to provide for the wants of his stomach ; and yet a 
time always arrives, a fatal hour, when his strength be- 
comes exhausted, his cunning is at fault, and after unheard- 
of fatigues, he dies of hunger, with all his family, amidst 
the forests which refuse him food. The life of the savage 
is but the punishment of Ugolino transported into the desert, 
and interrupted from time to time by hunting or by human 
sacrifices. At these periods the forests re-echo with cries 
of joy or the songs of death : the hunger of the savage, the 
hunger of the man is appeased, amidst the horrible delirium 
of a feast of cannibals. 

Such are the memoirs of Tanner ;* such are the virtues 
and delights of savage life. And after this picture one 

* Thirty Years in the Deserts of America. New York, 2 vols. 



A MORAL LAW OP NATURE. - 219" 

would, I should think, be but little moved by the declama- 
tion of Rousseau, on that which it has pleased him to call 
the state of nature; the plain truth destroys the eloquent 
paradox. 

Sociability is then imposed upon the human race: it is a 
condition of man's life, a second creation, which imparts 
to him all his value : for not only does it snatch him from 
these barbarities, but it discovers in him virtues and senti- 
ments which would die without it. The savage state, like 
the barbarous state, may produce a Jenghis Khan ; but it 
could not produce an Alexander ; it could not produce a 
Plato, a Socrates, a Galileo, or a Newton ; neither could it 
produce the apostles of Christ. Man appears complete 
only at the summit of civilization. 

God has bestowed a light upon society, and this light 
adapts itself to all the degrees of civilization. According 
as the society is more or less extensive, our mind enjoys a 
greater or less scope. We develope just sufficient for the 
size of our locality. This is the origin of the petty passions 
which afflict little towns, and also of the narrow views of 
our deputies at each integral renovation of the Chamber. 
Those who are newly elected bring us, for the most part, 
but the petty ambitions or interests of their localities, ideas 
as enlarged as their department. How many degrees must 
they pass through, before comprehending, I do not say the 
universality, but the nationality of their mission ! Paris 
appears to them a gulf as long as they escape from its 
thinking influence; at last they yield to this influence, then 
the social admixture takes place, the narrow provincial 
ideas are extended to the whole country, and they revive 
as Frenchmen. During fourteen years I have narrowly 
observed this phenomenon, and I have blessed a form of 
government which, by forcing minds to expand themselves, 
must necessarily contribute to their morality. 

And yet this is only a first step in the fulfilment of the 
social law. In proportion as the soul expands, it embraces 
the whole world, and wishes to subject it to unity. Ancient 
legislators appear to have mistaken this sentiment in giving 
it for its invariable limits the love of country. Jesus Christ 
alone thought of directing it according to the voice of 
nature: without overthrowing local legislations, he included 
them all in the moral code of his universal legislation. It 



220 



OF THE LOVE OF COUNTRY 



is the Gospel which opens out to us the world, by showing 
us every where brethren. The limits of an empire only 
mark the extent of a power, and not the extent of humanity. 
Thus society, beginning in the family, is completed in the 
human race. One God in heaven — one people on the earth. 
Such is true religion and true sociabihty. 

The sentiment of the Divinity. — The sociability of the 
human race. 

These two laws, engraven in our souls as in a sacred 
temple, form the basis of the whole code of nature. They 
substitute for all theological violence this axiom, — Love 
God. For all social tyranny they substitute the law, — Love 
nien. They tell us that it is the will of God that men 
should be free, that they should be happy ; and in order 
that this will should always be present before us, they im- 
part to it the attractions of a reward and the seductions of 
a sentiment. All human tongues express it in one word — 
Love ! And every people among whom the Gospel is 
preached comprise it in one single maxim, — Love God and 
men. 

This, then, is the second article of our code — the socia- 
bility of the human race. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE LOVE OF COUNTRY AND OF HUMANITY A PHYSICAL AND 

MORAL LAVT OF NATURE. 

" Tout I'amour qu'on a pour soi-raetne, pour sa famille, pour ses amis se reunit 
dans I'amour qu'on a pour la patrie." 

BOSSUET. 

Something of this appears in plants and animals. 
Plants have their geography, and fix themselves on the 
earth in varied but constant zones. Animals have their 
favourite localities and climates. And further, we see 
them attaching themselves to the house of man, and 
making of it a country in which they live and die. Every 
spring the swallow returns from across the seas to the 
nest in which it had burst its shell. Every evening the 
ass, the horse, and the ox stop before the door of the farm- 
house where the hardest labour awaits them. The dove 



AND OF HUMANITY. 221 

travels five hundred leagues in three days to return to its 
dove-cote; and the faithful dog breaks the chain which 
retains him at a distance from the habitation of his master, 
to which he joyfully returns after some years of absence. 

It is then impossible not to admit in animals at least the 
instinct of localities. In man this instinct becomes the 
love of country. Man attaches himself from habit to the 
spot in which he was born: he loves every thing about it — • 
even the stones. It may be but a town, of which the 
dirty streets and the obscure houses are scarcely habitable; 
it may be a village built over a precipice and amidst 
perpetual snows; but it is the home of our childhood; 
we have breathed there — we have loved — we have there 
been young and happy, like the bird beneath the wings of 
its mother. And yet, the charm attached to our native 
country is counterpoised in youth by the desire of seeing 
and of knowing. This restless passion is another law of 
nature. Man must travel over the earth, ideas niust be 
exchanged and brethren must meet. Thus, the instinct 
which attaches us yields to the passion which draws us on. 
The world discloses itself to our view, and our regards are 
lost in the imaginary spectacle of its delights and its 
pleasures. 

But at a later period, when, awakened from our illusions 
and buffeted about by the winds of adversity, we seek for a 
shelter against the tempest, our native country presents 
itself to our minds with its sweetest reminiscences. We 
again see ourselves fresh with innocence and youth, amidst 
a joyful crowd, running about the meadows, or tumultu- 
ously rushing out of the school-room, the scene of our first 
successes; or, alone and pensive in the mountain paths, we 
hear the caressing voice of our parents, we press the hand 
of a friend, and though suffering from the wounds which 
the world has inflicted upon us, we feel ourselves revive 
amidst the graceful images of our earliest pleasures. 

The love of country is the love of our native land extended 
to all men who speak the same language, and live beneath 
the same laws : it is a fraternity larger than that of the 
family, but yet too contracted for our soul. The proof 
that the love of country, such as our legislators define it, is 
but a mutilated sentiment, is that conquests enlarge it: it 
is more or less vast, according to the genius of Alexander 



222 LOVE OF HUMANITY — ^A LAW OF NATURE. 

or of CsBsar. Let us curse the fury of conquest, but while 
cursing it, let us take care not to mistake its deep and mys- 
terious agency. This desire to extend the limits of empires, 
to carry them to the extremities of the world, what is it but 
the desire to make the people of different nations one 
people, — of all countries one country 1 We fulfil without 
knowing it this great law of nature, which tends to make 
us embrace the whole world. The error is not in the idea, 
but in the act ; we try to do with arms that which can only 
be accomplished by love. 

Thus the instinct of localities, a purely animal instinct, 
raises itself in man, by the double impulsion of the beautiful 
and the infinite, up to the love of the human race. The 
love of the human race is the love of country, such as 
Socrates defined it, and such as the law of nature wills it. 
God has placed it in our souls to triumph over all the 
national hatred which divides men, and over the fratricidal 
wars which are an outrage to humanity. 



CHAPTER XV. 

THE LOVE OF HUMANITY IS THE LAW OF NATURE. 

*-) " Interroge sur sa patrie Socrate repondit qu'il etoit citoyen du monde." 

Plutarque. 

To be born beneath such or such a degree of latitude, is 
to be born an Icelander or a Chinese ; a slave or a citizen ; 
it is to receive from the authority of example the manners 
and habits of a people, their opinions, and their supersti- 
tions. 

To be born in such or such an age, is to be born with 
the predominating ideas of a particular epoch : either to 
kill helots, to burn heretics, to die in the Holy Land, or to 
fight for liberty. 

This influence of time and place presses upon us like a 
fatality. An Indian dies in the waters of the Ganges for 
an idea which he would have despised if he had been born 
in Europe. Let Spain be advanced a century in civiHzation, 
and the same people who arm themselves to defend the 
Inquisition would rise in insurrection for the purpose of 
destroying it. 



LOVE OF HUMANITY — A LAW OP NATURE. 223 

Suppose Bonaparte to be born in London, or Washington 
in Paris; suppose them to have been born a century earlier 
or later than they were, and the current of their ideas 
would have been changed. Other opinions would have 
created for them another destiny, and the civilized world 
would have taken another direction. 

Thus we receive our social ideas, and sometimes also 
our moral ideas, from our country and the age in which 
we live. 

The circle contracts or enlarges itself, according to the 
date of the calendar or the degree of latitude. 

But the more society surrounds us with errors, the 
greater is the number of the means of escape which the law 
of nature presents to us. Whilst we circumscribe our 
country, the law enlarges it by our desires, and by the 
benefits spread over the surface of the earth. Our soul is 
always greater than our affections and our ambitions, and 
so long as it does not embrace earth and heaven, so long as 
it does not plunge into infinity, there still remains a void to 
be filled up, and sentiments to be experienced. 

Heraclitus said of the philosophers of his time, *' They 
seek truth in the little world, and not in the great world." 

The little world is that which surrounds and concerns 
us; our interests, our passions, our prejudices, our family, 
our town. 

The great world is the earth and heaven; the interests 
of our soul, and the interests of humanity. 

There is then a means of escaping from the influence of 
times and of places : it is to seek truth in the great world, 
and to make oneself, like Socrates, a citizen of the world. 

The love of humanity — is the moral law of nature. 



224 LOVE — A PHYSICAL AND MORAL 

CHAPTER XVI. 

LOVE A PHYSICAL AND MORAL LA.W OF NATURE. 

"Seulil tientles renes de I'empire du monde; partout il dirige son vol : A 
est accorapagne d'une lumiere pure qui dissipe les tenebres du chaos ; sa voix 
retentit dans toute la nature." Orphee. 

" II y a dans I'ame una force qui la portant hors d'elle, vers I'ideal, tend a 
I'union : e'est I'amour dans le sens le plus etendu." Heinsterhuys. 

" Le mariage pent seul faire une vertu de cette passion." 

Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. 

This law is the life of the universe. We find it existing 
every where, in the highest and in the lowest grade of crea- 
tion ; modifying itself with matter, and deifying itself with 
mind. As an affinity, it attracts molecules : as an attrac- 
tive power, it sustains worlds : as a productive power, it 
renews nature : as a sentiment, it opens out to us infinity. 
Thus the law, disengaging itself by degrees from its geome- 
trical forms, passes from attraction to love ; and already in 
plants and in animals it seems to be no more than an allure- 
ment to pleasure. 

In plants, observe it creating chefs- d^aeuvre for a mar- 
riage of a few hours. Nothing is spared ; perfumes, forms, 
colours, grace, riches ; it varies all ; it is lavish of all, as if 
it knew that there existed eyes to see, and souls to admire 
its productions. 

Ascending from plants to animals, the scene becomes 
more animated, and life expands. Here is a third world, 
in which pleasure has a voice, in which all the creatures 
call and seek out each other; in which the bird sings, the 
insect hums, and lions make the deserts resound with their 
terrific roarings. Here love begins ; a terrestrial and ephe- 
meral love ; the love of a season, of a day, of an hour ; and 
this hour having passed, the lions again become solitary, 
the bird loses its brilliant plumage, the nightingale ceases to 
sing, and beauty disappears. 

So nature wills it. While calling all beings to pleasure, 
while multiplying love, she has husbanded its flames ; for 
she foresaw the perils of a greater liberality. What would , 
the perpetuity of love have produced in animals 1 if not 



LAW OF NATURE. 225 

an eternal warfare, a frightful multiplication, confusion 
and chaos. 

So far the law has been imposed, though always sweet- 
ened by pleasure. Having ascended up to man, it ceases 
to be an obligation without ceasing to be a power. Its 
power is even increased by all the charms of the sentiment 
of the beautiful and of infinity ; but, while increasing, it 
changes its direction, and raises itself, if we may so speak, 
from earth to heaven. A something which will not die, a 
sentiment which declares itself eternal is awakened within 
us. The first emotion of two souls which respond to each 
other, is to call forth another life ; one would say, that 
nature attaches to love a revelation of immortality. 

And yet man remains free, he may refuse the pleasures 
which are offered to him ; he can do what animals cannot, 
viz. refuse to transmit life. The pleasure is . not imposed 
upon him, and if he obeys the law, it is not because it is a 
law, it is not because it is a delight, it is because he may 
make of it a virtue. 

On this point the warnings of nature are positive ; they 
leave no pretext to our passions, they condemn all extremes 
— celibacy, as well as profligacy ; and order is thus esta- 
blished in the graceful harmonies of virtue and of pleasure. 
This is the law. 

Among animals, the number of males and females varies 
according to the species. Sometimes we see a single 
female to a great number of males, as in the instance of 
bees; sometimes a single male to many females, as in 
poultry. Nature has given to the one a, court, to the other 
a harem. Sometimes she multiplies the males more than 
the females, with the intention of perpetuating the vigour 
of the species by rivalities and conflicts. Thus tigers, 
lions, and all the ferocious species, make furious war upon 
each other at the period of their amours. Sometimes also 
she multiplies the females a little more than the males, 
with the intention of uniting flocks, of founding colonies 
by the allurement of a quiet possession. Thus the cow, 
the horse, the bull, the goat, the sheep, and all the house- 
hold species, live in common beneath the roof of man, of 
whose labours they partake, and of whose prosperity they 
lay the foundation. 

But in arriving at man, the law assumes a more sacred 

15 



226 lOVE — A PHYSICAL AND MOEAL 

character. In animals, it only occupies itself with the 
conservation of the species ; in man, it appears to think of 
the happiness of the individual. The moral rule springs 
from the care w^hich nature always takes to create a man 
for a woman, a woman for a man ; the number of men and 
women being about equal upon the earth. Thus nature 
does not give us a seraglio ; she gives us a companion ; 
and she gives us this companion not merely for a season, 
but for the whole of life. Realizing in some measure the 
ingenious fable of Plato, who regards woman as the half 
of man, she calls the soul to the search of a congenial soul, 
and renders us again complete by love. 

Unity in marriage, such is the order established by 
nature, and the civilization of the earth, depends upon the 
fulfilment of this law. A 

It divides the east from the west. 

We see on the one hand slavery, imprisonment, and bar- 
barity, forced and voluntary mutilations ; on the other, 
moral and social liberty. 

Where youth is without love, where man is without a 
companion, where the children are without a mother — we 
must not seek for civilization. 

If love were but a slight convulsion, as Mark Aurelius 
calls it, man would not raise himself above the brute. He 
owes all his moral superiority to the moral power of love ; 
and this is so true, that wherever he disallows this power^ 
his superiority ceases. 

Then it is that man contemns himself in a part of him? 
self; he vilifies himself when vilifying the woman; he cuts 
off from himself the one-half of his soul, and all mutilation 
demoralizes him. And how should he know virtue if he 
debases his most amiable and most devoted guide 1 Who 
will teach him the graces of innocence, the devotedness of 
the heart, and those pious transports towards heaven which 
are the life of love? See how love repels ambition, how 
he despises riches, how ready he is to make all the sacrifices" 
which are made by heroes ! That which charms us in 
love, is not its vivid pleasures, it is its devotedness, its 
modesty, its fidelity ; we see of it only the sublime ; we cite 
only its moral joys and its divine transports. ' 

Our most pleasing dreams do not exhibit to us love either ' 
in the palaces of kings, or in the voluptuous festivities of the i 



LAW OF NATURE. 22? 

East, but in a cottage amidst bowers and green meadows 
All in nature seems to us made in order to beautify and to 
I centre in love. And when, in travelling through a pictu- 
] resque country, our eyes are attracted by some beautiful 
spot ; a rich orchard with a clear springing fountain ; a 
wood in which we hear the nightingale ; we at once picture 
it to ourselves as a retreat for happy lovers, and the 
charmed imagination presents to us nothing more delight- 
ful than an innocent life, gliding away beneath these shades, 
in the raptures of love. 

These are the desires, these are the ambitions of the 
heart ! love inspires us with all that wisdom requires ; he 
discloses to us, at fifteen years of age, this enchanted world, 
in which the beautiful and the infinite appear to us as the 
sole aim of life. And let it not be said that such a world is 
imaginary. These ideal perfections, the objects of our 
reveries, this devotedness which seems so easy to us, all 
these smiling images of virtue in love, and of happiness in 
a middle state ; all this is true ; there is even nothing true 
but this upon the earth, nature does not deceive us; it is 
the world which deceives us, when it tears us from these 
visions of truth, in order to plunge us into the sad realities 
of its vices and its falsehoods. 

The developement of the faculties of the soul tends to 
cause love to reign upon earth, as the developement of the 
intellect tends to produce the reign of ambition. Love is 
an angel which comes to us with resplendent wings, not as 
a woman of genius has said, to unite us in egotism, but to 
introduce us into active life ; to render its troubles lighter 
and its duties easier. It is true, that love has its hours of 
egotism. At first, the lovers seek and sigh for each other; 
and, like flowers which a light wind detaches from the 
maternal stem, they separate themselves from the family, 
allowing themselves to be carried into solitude. This de- 
sire of isolation in tenderness is expressed in the most 
ancient books. The wife, in the Song of Songs, desires to 
fly from the tumult of cities ; the sight of men diverts her 
attention ,from her love. " Come, beloved," she says, " let 
us go into the country, let us dwell in the fields. Let us 
arise in the mornins: to visit our vines, and to see if thev 
begin to put forth their blossoms." Sweet words, which 
exhale pleasure, and appear to identify the delights of love 



228 LOVE A PHYSICAL AND MORAL LAW. 

with the delisrhts of a rural life. But this sentiment — a 
secret instinct of modesty — does not last long ; nature has- 
tens to enlarge its sphere, and in this she shows her wisdom 
and her solicitude : she does not destroy ; she regulates. It 
is by multiplying the felicities of love, that she places limits 
to its egotism. These two beings who isolated themselves 
from society, who desired to live alone, and to live only for 
each other, we see them re-appearing, surrounded by a 
group of little children; they advance, their countenance 
beaming with a twofold joy, as if drawn forwards by these 
new ties which again attach them to the world. And who 
then on earth has ever experienced enjoyments so pure and 
so manifold 1 Attached to her husband by all the cares of 
tenderness, to her children by all the duties of love, the 
woman possesses within her breast the sweetest affections 
of nature. Her mind and heart are in a continual activity; 
she lives in him, in them ; in the present, the past, and the 
future; and infinite pleasures are the reward of her inex- 
haustible tenderness. 

To isolate oneself, is one of the first phases of love, but 
it is not love itself; love does not contract the heart, it 
expands it, and renders it capable of conquering selfishness. 
Ungrateful creatures that we are, we complain that the 
moments of solitude and egotism so soon pass away, and 
we do not feel that the family and society would be lost, if 
a similar enchantment could last for ever. In ceasing to 
be social, man would cease to be powerful ; love, which 
raises him up to heaven, would cause him to lose even his 
terrestrial empire. 

Fortunately, nature is superior to our desires, and more 
generous than our wills. 

In fact, man sighs and languishes at the feet of his mis- 
tress ; but by the side of his companion amidst his children, 
he enjoys the plenitude of his being. He is the support, 
the protector of his family; all that is in him of noble, 
powerful, or generous, becomes excited and active. And 
yet he has lost nothing of his love ; but, like his companion, 
he difl^uses it over a greater number of objects: all these 
little hands which caress him, all these smiling countenances 
which surround him, recall to his mind her whom he loves; 
he recognises her in the smile of his children, and blesses 
her in their innocence. Ah ! the graces of the young 



MATERNAL LOVE. 229 

virgin never caused sweeter transports than those of the 
mother of a family! Love is happiness, for this world and 
for eternity. 

Love, and your desires will be accomplished ; love, and 
you will be happy; love, and all the powers of the earth 
will be at your feet. Love is a flame which burns in 
heaven, and of which the soft reflection extends to our- 
selves. Two worlds are open to it, two lives are bestowed 
upon it; it is by love that we redouble our being ; that we 
approach to God. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

OF MATERNAL LOVE A MORAL AND PHYSICAL LAW OF NATURE. 

•' C'est ici que sa voix pieuse et solennelle 
Nous expliquait un Dieu que nous sentions en elle; 
Et nous montrant I'epi dans son germe enferme, 
La grappe distillant son breuvage embaume, 
JNous enseignait la foi par la reconnoissance 
Et faisait admirer a nolre'simple enfanee, 
Comment I'astre et I'insecte invisible a nos yeux 
Avaient ainsi que nous leur pere dans les cieux." 

Lamartine. 

All our earthly attachments are dictated by pleasure. 

Maternal love alone arises amid suffering. Imagine to 

yourself, says Plutarch, the sensations of woman in the ear- 

jliest days of the world, when after the pains of child-birth, 

she saw her new-born infant upon the ground covered with 

blood, and more resembling a flayed animal than a living 

creature. Doubtless she might have regarded it as an evil 

|of which nature had just delivered her; no visible charms 

'.attracted her towards it; her heart was moved neither by 

the beauty of its form, nor by the sweetness of its voice, and 

jyet, still feverish with her sufferings, still trembling with the 

languish of parturition, she washes and caresses it, clothes 

it, and presses it to her bosom, constantly recommencing a 

Uoil which never fatigues her; and in exchange for so many 

sacrifices, receiving only cries and wailings. 

Well, this power, which is stronger than pain or disgust ; 
this power at which Plutarch is with reason astonished, is 
but an animal feeling, Uke the tenderness of the cat for its 



230 MATERNAL LOVE A MORAL AND PHYSICAL 

young ; a blind instinct which belongs to the plant, to the 
insect, to the quadruped, to birds, as well as to woman; it 
is an immutable law of nature; a law of preservation; and 
that is all. 

It is this law which prepares in the plant the juice which 
is to nourish the seed, the down which warms it, the folds 
which shelter it; it is this again which provides the seed 
with hooks, sails, shells, wings, tufts of feathers, according 
as it is required to be wafted to the mountains, or to aban- 
don its vegetable fleets to the peaceful current of a rivulet. 

In more perfect beings this intelligent power is associated 
with the passions, increases their force, and trains them up 
to industry. The bird prepares its nest before knowing that 
it is about to produce a something of which it ought to take 
care, and lines it with a soft down, before knowing the deli- 
cacy of its brood ; it hatches, that is to say, that the most 
restless of beings remains motionless during several weeks, 
seated on a cold and insensible shell, before knowing that it 
encloses a being similar to itself At length, when the 
young ones are born, it brings them food ; it defends them 
against enemies, it sings, it is anxious, or rejoices, and all 
these painful or joyful labours are destined to remain with- 
out any reward ; no filial tenderness will ever respond to 
this maternal tenderness. Some day the young ones will 
try their wdngs ; on another day they will take their flight 
and disappear in the regions of air. Animals have no 
family, they are truly neither father nor mother, nor related 
to each other; they are but the workmen of nature. 

Thus, although organized beings are born weak and 
powerless, although they are surrounded with enemies, and 
as if on a battle-field, yet are they born in safety. Mater- 
nal love shields them by its foresight and its devotedness. 
Like a vigilant sentinel it watches oVer each birth ; not for 
the preservation of an isolated being ; of a quadruped, a bird, 
a fly, or even of a child, but for the accomplishment of this 
great work of nature, which wills that all should die, and 
that nothing should perish; that all should be born, and that 
nothing should be immortal. Whatever, then, may be the 
wants of all beings, their ferocity or their destructiveness, 
whatever may be the exigencies of death, maternal love 
remains as a conqueror on the earth, which it re-peoples. 
By it, every plant is renewed in its seed, every insect in its 



LAW OF NATURE. 231 

egg, every animal in its young; it is at the sanne time the 
source of life, and the Hmit of destruction 

It is a fact worthy of observation, that maternal love lasts 
only in each animal the time necessary for the conservation 
of the species; as soon as the young no longer require their 
mother, she abandons them. This sentiment, so strong, so 
tender, so caressing, so sublime, which occasions so many 
privations and sacrifices, becomes all at once extinct, and is 
succeeded by the most complete indiflference. In the morn- 
ing a mother will fight with fury to defend her progeny, 
which in the evening she no longer knows. And this aban- 
donment, which excites no regret, which leaves no remem- 
brance, is effected at the moment when long habit, or grati- 
tude, would seem to render it impossible. When we re- 
flect that the harmony of the world depends upon this double 
law of love and indifference, we are surprised not to see it 
any where pointed out. Only let us conceive what a new 
power the durable affection of animals would introduce 
upon the earth. What strength would be added to their 
exterminating instinct. If a war-cry were raised, twenty 
generations would arise around a single female, families 
would be armies, and all these armies would labour only to 
destroy. In order to prevent such destruction, to establish 
the equilibrium of life and death, indifference suffices, with 
one single exception. This exception is found in the heart 
of woman ; there only is maternal love a durable sentiment, 
because it is a moral sentiment ; it participates in the in- 
finity which gives wings to our soul; and thus it is, that it 
creates a family, nations, and the human race. 

True maternal love, human love, begins then at the point 
where animal instinct terminates. It is certainly not our 
intention to undervalue the maternal cares bestowed upon 
childhood; but women must know the fact, and how can 
they know it if no one dares to tell it them 1 They will be 
mothers, according to the moral law of nature, only when 
they shall labour to devolope the soul of their children. 
Their mission upon earth is not merely to procreate an in- 
telligent biped ; it is a complete man which the world re- 
quires from them ; a man whose passions shall partake of 
the great, the beautiful, and the infinite, who knovi^s how to 
choose himself a companion, to inspire his children, and, if 
needs be, to die for the cause of virtue. There is then for 



232 MATERNAL LOVE. 

the woman a double duty to perform, as there is for man a 
double birth. To be born into life, is but to be born to 
pleasure and pain, to be born in. the love of God and of 
men, is to be truly born, and our mother owes us this second 
birth, if she would. enjoy a greater happiness than that of see- 
ing us breathe and digest food ; the liappiness which Shaks- 
peare so well expresses, when he makes the mother of 
Coriolanus say, " I sprang not more in joy at first hearing 
he was a man-child, than now in first seeing he had proved 
himself a man." 

It is a fine thing to surprise, as Plutarch does, in the heart 
of the son the source of this joy of the mother. " The 
reason which made him love glory," says he, in speaking 
of Coriolanus, "was the joy which he perceived it oc- 
casioned his mother."* These two souls understood each 
other for the good of their country and of humanity. % 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



OF SOME OTHER LAWS OF NATURE. 

"Ce sont les hommes qui font leur propre malheur : les lois de la nature sont 
toutes fondees sur I'amour : les lois huinaines le sont sur le besoin de punir ie 
crime. Heureux ceux qui ne sont gouvernes que par les lois de la nature." 

Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. 



The five preceding laws give rise to a multitude of 
secondary laws, which are equally applicable to man and 
to animals. Such is friendship, which among the Greeks 
became a political law ; and paternal and filial afiection, 
the only moral support of the legislation of the Chinese, and 
the chief cause of its long duration. We will not consider 
in this place these difl^erent modifications of the sentiment 
of love, our subject draws us towards laws of a higher 
order, and which place us directly beneath the direction of 
Providence. Such is the law which establishes the prin- 
ciple that no object contains within itself the first cause of 
its existence, and the three following laws. 

Man always naturally inclines to that which is great 
and beautiful. 

* Plutarch. Life of Coriolanus. 



OF SOME OTHER LAWS OF NATURE, 233 

Truth is always found in that which is most great and 
beautiful. 

Man is complete ; he becomes all that which he may be- 
come ; he produces all that which he can produce, only 
when he is in freedom. 

Such, again, is the law of the partition of the earth be- 
tween man and woman, — a law which regulates the order 
of their occupations. 

The law which establishes that moral reaction, is always 
equal to action. 

Labour ; a physical and moral law of nature ; whence 
springs the principle of property. 

Perfectibility; a moral law of nature, which reveals to 
us this great truth, viz. that the human race is constantly 
advancing towards an end, which is the fulfilment of a 
thought of God. 

Lastly, death ; a law of deliverance, which law, from 
being imperfectly known, frequently precipitates us into 
superstition and incredulity. 

Men are, in the presence of death, like Columbus on the 
edge of the ocean's abyss. He may well be told, that this 
ocean has no shore : his eagle eye plunges into immensity : 
he penetrates into it through darkness and tempests, and 
sees a new world and an immortal glory, where stupid fear 
sees merely a void. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

NO OBJECT CONTAINS WITHIN ITSELF THE FIRST CAUSE OF ITS 
EXISTENCE ; A PHYSICAL AND MORAL LAW OF NATURE. 

" Les sources fornient des ruisseaux, et ceux-ci forment les rivieres. Que le 
nocher les remonte aussi loin qu'il pourra, encore n'atteindra-t-il pas'la'derniere 
origine des fontaines." Linnee, Empire de la Nature. 

In order to force mankind to turn their eyes towards 
him, God has willed that no object of nature should contain 
within itself the first cause of its existence. He attaches 
all to himself by the unknown. 

This will is stamped upon matter. This is the reason 
why the sciences explain nothing more than phenomena ; 



2^4 



OF THE DIVISION OF THE EARTH 



the absolute cause always escapes them : how much so ever 
intellect may search, nature answers only by secondary 
causes ; but when the soul unites itself to intellect, all the 
sciences are eclipsed, the absolute cause is unveiled, and 
God appears. 



CHAPTER XX. 

OF THE DIVISION OF THE EARTH BETWEEN MAN AND WOMAN ,' 

A MORAL AND PHYSICAL LAW OF NATURE. 

" Mais encore, quand Thomme aura porte du dehors en la raaison ce qui est 
necessaire, si est il besoign d'avoir quelqu'un qui le garde, et qui fasse les choses 
qui ne peuvent etre faictes que dans le logis." 

De la Boetie de Xenophon. 

Marriage gives to man a companion, and to woman a 
support. It unites beneath the same roof a strong and a 
feeble being; but, considering only society in its origin, a 
similar state of things must have been foreseen, and ac- 
cordingly it was foreseen. In multiplying earthly goods, 
God has made of them two parts ; or rather, he has doubled 
his gifts, as if to establish a double sovereignty. Man 
reigns over the earth ; his power subjects the ox to the 
yoke, the horse to the bridle, and the reindeer to the sledge ; 
he sends the falcon into the air, and makes it bring him its 
prey ; he sends the cormorant to the bottom of the water, 
and makes it bring him its fish ; he sends the dog across 
the fields, and makes it bring the game. This is the power 
of strength ; one would say that it could subject ever}'- 
thing to it; and yet it suffices to contemplate nature in her 
most charming works, in order to perceive that after this 
lordly master, she looks for a more gentle master. 

The woman comes and establishes her empire by caresses. 
All becomes tractable around her : the hen yields up her 
egg, and the cow her milk ; she superintends the bees which 
yield their honey, and the worm which changes into silk 
the leaf of the mulberry tree. There are even some 
animals which seem to be created expressly to suit her 
weakness and that of her children ; such is the ass, a more 
patient animal than the horse ; the goat, more easy to feed 
than the cow ; and the sheep, of which she spins the fleece, 

J 



BETWEEN MAN AND WOMAN. 235 

which is warmer than the skins of wild beasts. If nature 
have attached to man the dog, which Hke him is unsettled 
and irascible, to defend him from carnivorous animals, she 
has subjected to woman the cat, which like herself is more 
sedentary and patient, to watch over the provisions collected 
in her store-rooms. 

Man learns from animals several kinds of industry : the 
rabbit teaches him how to excavate subterranean passages ; 
the beaver, to raise embankments ; the swan to navigate. 
But woman learns from them lessons very different though 
no less useful ; the spider teaches her- to spin ; the butter- 
fly, to imprint her dress with various colours ; the bee, to 
extract the juice from the sweetest vegetables. It is not 
then without reason that the Greeks gave, not to the gods, 
but to a female, a goddess, to Ceres, to Minerva, the glory 
of these ingenious inventions. Man strives with nature, 
and each of his victories renders him more proud and un- 
ruly : woman, on the contrary, is softened and embellished 
by all her conquests ; and the graces of our homes, and the 
enjoyment of our well-being, are the invisible chains with 
which she binds us to civilization. 

In the vegetable kingdom the division is continued : man 
chooses from it all that may excite his courage, and woman 
all that may add to her beauty. The one has the forests, 
in which he exhibits his strength and his courage ; the other 
has the meadows to which she leads her flocks. It is on 
the flower-enamelled meads that woman appears to greatest 
advantage, whether dancing with her companions, or 
whether in solitude, she receives from nature the celestial 
thoughts of love and humanity. 

And of how many benefits has she not been the dis- 
coverer ? It is by the patience, the industry, and perhaps 
the curiosity of women that from the cereal plants, flour 
and bread have been drawn ; from the bulbous, various 
drinks ; from the filamentous, such as hemp and flax, the 
primary materials for our vestments — the further we ascend 
towards primitive manners, the more clearly we perceive 
traces of this division of nature. Among savage tribes, 
women gather the first products of their rude agriculture : 
the men follow the chase or fishing, and whilst they are 
running over the deserts, a few plants, strewed around their 



236 OF THE DIVISION OP THE EARTH, ETC. 

cabins prepares them for civilization by the attraction of a 
new enjoyment. 

In all countries women love flowers, in all countries they 
form nosegays of them ; but it is only in the bosom of 
plenty that they conceive the idea of embellishing their 
dwellings with them. The cultivation of flowers among 
the peasantry indicates a revolution in all their feelings. 
It is a delicate pleasure, which makes its way through 
coarse organs ; it is a creature, whose eyes are opened ; it 
is the sense of the beautiful, a faculty of the soul which is 
awakened. Man, then, understands that there is in the 
gifts of nature a something more than is necessary for 
existence ; colour, forms, odours, are perceived for the first 
time, and these charming objects have at last spectators. 
Those who have travelled in the country can testify, that a 
rose-tree under the window, a honeysuckle around the door 
of a cottage, are always a good omen to the tired traveller. 
The hand which cultivates flowers is not closed against the 
supplications of the poor, or the wants of the stranger. 

But as civilization advances the share of woman becomes 
less rude — she then withdraws into the house, and there 
receives the productions which man lays at her door, and 
order and economy found a new empire. 

We may read in the Mesnagerie {DJirt de Men Menager) 
of Xenophon, (a charming picture of conjugal union among 
the ancients,) how the pupil of Socrates has founded the 
duties of the man and woman upon the sweetest harmonies 
of nature. " And God made the body of the woman less 
vigorous than that of the man : on which account I am of 
opinion that he destined her for the care of domestic mat- 
ters; and enjoined them to nourish their children at an 
early age; he also bestowed more natural affection towards 
them, upon woman than upon man. And likewise, after he 
had consigned to the woman the care and superintendence 
of the household things, knowing that in order to preserve 
them well, it is not a bad thing for the heart to be some- 
what apprehensive, he made woman more timid than man ; 
and seeing, on the other hand, that he who has to do the 
work out of doors would require to defend himself, should 
any attack him, he gave to him the advantage in courage 
and strength. But inasmuch as it was requisite that both 
should be in a state to receive and to give out, he consigned 



CIVILIZATION OF COUNTRIES BY WOMEN. 237 

to them both in common the care of memory ; so that in 
this respect there is no rule that either the one sex or the 
other should enjoy a greater advantage. This is the reason 
why the one cannot do without the other, and their union 
is so much the more useful, as the one possesses that in 
which the other is deficient." 



CHAPTER XXI. 

OF THE CIVILIZATION OF COUNTRIES BY WOMEN. 

" Ce pendant la mere de toute la famille prepare un repas simple a son epoux 
et a ses chers enfants, qui doivant revenir fatigues du travail de la journee. Ella 
a soin de traire ses vaches et ses brebis, et ou voit couler de ruisseaux de lait. 
Elle fait un grand feu autour duquel toute le soir en attendant le sommeil." 

Fenelon. 

The ignorance of the peasantry, their coarseness, and 
their misery, are little favourable to poetry or romance. 
Thus the picture, which we sketch, is rarely met with in 
our rural districts. I have nevertheless seen it, but in the 
bosom of some privileged hamlets, where the civilizing law 
of a division of the earth* has been fulfilled, and where, 
by the sole effect of this law, the women have again become 
beautiful. There all has been made sweet, — life, morals, 
and labour. 

The great misfortune of our villages is the degradation 
of the women through labours which belong to men. In 
their earliest years they tend the flocks and gather in the 
harvest. As young girls, an instinct of coquetry and the 
foresight of their mothers remove them from the rude fa- 
tigues of husbandry ; but no sooner do they marry, than 
all is changed ; they abandon the house and follow their 
husbands into the fields. You see them bowed to earth, as 
labourers, or laden with enormous weights, like beasts of bur- 
den. There are districts in France, I do not say in Africa, 
w^here they are harnessed to carts with the ox and the ass. 
From that time their skin becomes shrivelled, their com- 
plexions hke coal, their features coarse and homely, and they 

* The words of our author are : " la loi civilisatrice du partage du globe," and 
the idea, which he means to convey, is, that men and women have equal but 
divided empire — equal rights, but different duties. 



238 CIVILIZATION OF THE EARTH BY WOMEN. 

fall into a premature decrepitude, more hideous than that 
of old age. But, whilst thus performing the labour of men, 
their own labours, those labours which sweeten and refine 
all others, remain neglected or unknown. Nothing can be 
more filthy, nothing more unwholesome, than the interior of 
their cottages. Fowls, ducks, pigs, contending for a meal, 
the door opening into the mud, and the windows, where 
there are any, serving only as vent-holes to carry oflf the 
smoke. It is there, nevertheless, in a hole, miry as the hut 
of a savage, amidst the gruntings and fetid emanations of 
animals, that, every evening, two human beings, male and 
female, repose from the fatigues of the day. Nobody is 
there to receive them, nothing to flatter their regards, the 
table is empty, and the hearth cold as ice. There, lastly, 
other labours await the woman, and, before thinking of her 
husband's supper or the care of her children, she must think 
of the stable and of supper for the beasts. 

But how diflferent would it be, if, leaving to her husband 
the hard labours of the field, and confining her attention to 
the interior of the house, the wife, in her delicate fore- 
thought, had prepared all for the hour of return ! The fire 
would blaze on the hearth, and the evening's meal smoke 
on the polished board. The good housewife would present 
herself to her husband in the midst of plenty and surrounded 
by the smiling faces of her children. Thus a sweet and 
easy life would be the natural life of the villager. But 
there is nothing to impress his mind with any image of this 
happiness; he knows not the word comfort; he is insensible 
to the charm of caresses and even the power of love. His 
children tremble before him, his wife dreads the vigour of 
his arm. The adversary, not the protector, of these feeble 
beings, he knows of no law but force. The dernier argu- 
ment of the peasant, in his cottage as in his field, is the 
weight of his fist. 

If asked for examples of these things, we will cite whole 
provinces, the richest as well as the poorest, of France : 
Perigord, where the women live in a state of filth and 
abjectness, which reacts on the whole family : Picardy 
and Limousin, where, degraded to the lowest rank, and as 
of an inferior race, they serve their husband at table, with- 
out ever daring to take a place at his side ; Brescia, where 
they are mere labourers, mere beasts of burden; lastly, 



CIVILIZATION OF THE EARTH BY WOMEN. 239 

Lower Brittany, where husband, wife, and children, reduced 
to a state almost savage, live all, pell mell, in the same 
filthy chamber, and eat black bread, in the same trough 
with their sheep and hogs. Every where is the degrada- 
tion of the woman a sure proof of the brutishness of the 
man, and every where is the brutishness of the man a ne- 
cessary consequence and reaction from the degradation of 
the woman. Do not offer them comfort or well-beinor, thev 
would reject it as something useless or strange. To desire 
comfort, it is necessary for them to know what comfort is, 
and ages have passed over their cabins without leaving 
there any other thoughts than those of labour and wretch- 
edness. 

Such is the condition of whole districts in almost every 
country of civilized Europe. And what is sadder still, is the 
fact, that these spectacles strike our eyes without wounding 
them our souls without softening them. Time has habituated 
us to these miseries, andjiabit robs us of all pity for them. 
Poor creatures! we behold them so little sensible of their own 
condition, that it never even enters our thoughts to solace 
or improve it. One might suppose them, in these countries, 
to be of another species, an inferior race, placed there from 
all eternity, ^to grub up the earth, to carry its produce into 
the city, its harvests into the granary, and to receive from 
us, in exchange, our contempt and a few pieces of money 
for the bread which they give us. 

Two modes, very simple, ofl?er themselves, however, for 
ameliorating the lot of these poor rustics. The first is to 
establish a primary institution, sufficiently large, for young 
girls, where they may learn how to direct the interior 
economy of a house, and thus, hereafter, be themselves 
qualified to instruct their own children in the same. To 
establish in a village, the intellectual superiority of the 
women over the men, however transiently, is to restore to 
the former their influence, that vivifying influence, which 
enriches cottages and civilizes nations. 

Hitherto, as we have stated at the commencement of 
this work, all our laws of primary instruction have proved 
insufficient, because they did not establish — before all and 
in preference to all — schools for the education of young 
girls. Never will instruction take deep root and spread in 
the rural districts, if it does not reach the children through 



240 CIVILIZATION OF THE EARTH BY WOMEN. 

their mothers, and the men through their wives. The pub- 
lic teacher is but a dry instrument, that teaches the alpha- 
bet; the mother of the family, on the contrary, is a moral 
power, which fertilizes the mind, while, at the same time, 
it opens the heart to love and the soul to charity. 

The second method, a necessary sequel of the first, con- 
sists in restoring to the women of the village the occupa- 
tions of their sex, and in bringing them back to the law of 
nature. This change, so simple, would operate as a com- 
plete revolution. In resuming her appropriate tasks, wo- 
man recovers her beauty ; in recovering her beauty, she 
regains her justinfluence and power. Occupied with employ- 
ments less gross, her tastes become purified, her manners 
softened ; she studies neatness, she comprehends comfort, 
and a day at length comes, when all her thoughts, all her 
desires, penetrate even the heart of her husband. Delicacy 
in woman is the most powerful enemy to the barbarism of 
man. 

It maybe urged, perhaps, that, to withdraw women from 
the rude labour of the field, is to ruin the labourer. To this 
we reply, that, far from ruining, it would enrich him. 
Surely the avocations of the cottage are neither less nu- 
merous nor of less importance than those of the field. If 
it require a vigorous arm to handle the spade or the plough, 
it requires not less careful hands to receive the crop, to 
gather in the fruits, to rear the poultry, to prepare butter 
and cheese, to card and spin the wool, and to maintain 
every where order and neatness. The earth does not 
bring forth but under the plough, which rends it asunder, 
and the house cannot prosper but under the wisdom which 
superintends it. 

When Solomon would describe the prosperity of a house, 
it is not the labours of the man, but the sweet influences of 
the wife, that occur to his thoughts. To the woman he 
attributes all the favours of fortune, even to the wisdom for 
which her husband is honoured. He describes her as 
watching over the ways of her household, and rising while 
it is yet night, to distribute wool to her servants. Wisdom 
speaks through her mouth, kindness reposes on her Hps, 
and never is she seen to eat the bread of idleness. Thus 
is she respected by her servants, blessed by the poor and 
needy, and when she appears so girded with strength and 



CIVILIZATION OF THE EARTH BY WOMEN. 241 

beauty, her children arise up and call her blessed, and her 
husband, joining his praises to theirs, says to her, " Many 
daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them 
all." The recompense of the virtuous woman in the Bible, is 
the respect of her children, the love of her husband, and 
the homage of all around her. 

Such are the sentiments, which would spring from the 
civilization of the country. Let the legislator but once 
give birth to them and we shall, ere long, admire in the 
cottage the same virtues, which, in the time of Solomon, 
gave delight to the palace. 

Nevertheless it must not be supposed that we would 
leave to woman no share in the concerns of agriculture. 
There are labours in it ready for their hands ; and the 
gathering of vegetables and the culture of fruits might 
mingle themselves agreeably with the daily cares of the 
household. Nor are these labours less useful or less lucra- 
tive. Nature has placed in them the commencement of all 
civilization, and, the better to attract us to them, has made 
them the source of great riches. See Thomery and Mon- 
treuil ! They were once two poor villages, whose rude 
inhabitants languished in misery ; they have arisen out of 
it by the culture of a fruit, which is committed to the 
women. The soil of Thomery consists of 400 acres of 
dry quarry, known from the time of Henry IV. by the 
name of the Effondres. In giving to this spot the grape, 
they have increased its products a million-fold. There is 
not perhaps on the face of the globe, at the' present day, a 
country more interesting, a village more charming, or 
worthier the regards of the legislator. It is a small agri- 
cultural republic, the inhabitants of which live like one 
great family, and are industrious, rich, and happy. The 
labour of the women is light, and consists in stripping off 
the leaves of the vine, so as to admit the sun and air upon 
its branches ; in freeing the clusters from the damaged 
berries ; in cutting off the fruit without injuring the bloom ; 
and, when the moment of sale arrives, in preparing the 
fern which should envelope and perfume the grape. All 
these things require a delicacy and care, of which women 
are alone capable. The art of ornamenting the baskets 
and of packing the grapes forms in itself a complete science. 
Young girls, possessed of it, are much sought after by the 

16 



242 CIVILIZATION OF THE EARTH BY WOMEN. 

young men, and this talent supplies sometimes the wealth 
of their dower. In the winter the women occupy them- 
selves with their fruit garden, or in arranging at the side of 
their white grapes numerous rows of apples and pears, 
which their husbands purchase in Auvergne, and the traffic 
in which brings them great profits. Such is the way by 
which the villagers of Thomery have passed from misery 
to comfort and well-being, from barbarism to civilization, 
all by the culture of one fruit, and the all-powerful influence 
of women restored to their natural labours.* 

The history of Montreuil offers a yet more lively in- 
terest. In the time of Louis XIII. it was only a wretched 
village, where we met, here and there, some of those 
savage animals described by Bruyere, black and livid, 
alwpys bowed down to the earth, and scarcely exhibiting 
the features of men. Since that period the same village 
has been transformed into an opulent market-town, peopled 
by four or five thousand souls, who are all occupied, men 
and women, young and old, in cultivation of the peach 
tree, with whose blooming and high-flavoured fruits our 
tables are spread during three months of the year. It was 
a poor knight of Saint Louis, who introduced this culture 
at Montreuil. After long years of service, he solicited, at 
Versailles, a pension, which was never given him. Often, 
with heart wounded by disappointment, he quitted the ante- 
chamber of the court and descended into the kitchen-gar- 
dens created by La Quintinie. This celebrated gardener 
dehghted in communicating his art. He remarked the old 
knight, took pleasure in his conversation, divined his 
distress, and to divert his attention, put garden-tools into 
his hands, as he had done to the great Conde and to Louis 
XIV. At this period he was occupying himself in bringing 
to perfection a peach tree, and by the secrets of a new 
mode of culture, was enabled to give to his fruits the 
rich colouring and perfume of the fairest flowers. Pleased 
with this first success, he invented those little walls made 
for espaliers, and which, placed at a little distance from 

* Not far from Thomery is a parish of considerable extent, named Champagne. 
There the women share with their husbands the hard labour of the fields ; and 
the consequence is, that coarseness and sluttishness reappear, that their manners 
are degraded, and their children no longer cared for. They run about the fields 
in rags, and many of them are beggars. You would think yourself a hundred 
leagues from Thomery, and yet the Seine alone separates the two villages. 



CIVILIZATION OF THE EARTH BY WOMEN. 243 

each other, double the heat by reflecting it. This inven- 
tion, which concentrated the rays of the sun, vividly struck 
Girardot, and he resolved on taking it to Bagnolet, near to 
Montreuil, where he possessed a small dwelling house and 
three acres and a half of land. This was a wise and noble 
resolution, which at once freed him from all his anxieties, 
though he was far from foreseeing its most beautiful re- 
sults. To change the morals of a village, it is sometimes 
only necessary to change its culture, and by this was his 
resolution effected ; for it withdrew the women from the 
rude labours of the field. Instead of the spade and the hoe, 
it slipped into their hands the fruit-basket. From that 
period their coarseness disappeared with their misery, and 
in the place of barren and unwholesome wastes, we behold 
a succession of smiling gardens. The little walls at Mon- 
treuil and their rich espaliers had civiHzed the country. 

Thus were several poor villages, in the vicinity of the 
capital, successively transformed, such vicinity rendering 
the transformation more easy. Yet the same effects may 
be obtained by the same means, in countries the most iso- 
lated and barren. Witness the Vivarais of former times, 
and the Vivarais of to-day. On the summits of volcanic 
mountains, in the very entrails of these volcanoes, amidst 
torrents of lava, without culture, and almost without vege- 
tation, one still saw, only a few years ago, the remnant of 
a half-savage colony, whose grossness and ferocity recalled 
to us the manners of the old Scottish clans. These people 
always went armed, and their wretchedness was so great, 
that not even religion could soften them. Every Sunday 
they might be seen issuing from their huts in garments of 
blackish wool, resembling those of the Corsicans, in great 
wooden shoes, many inches thick, and guns on their shoulders. 
Thus equipped, they went to church, and from thence, after 
service, betook themselves to the tavern. " TAere," says a 
traveller who visited them towards the end of the last cen- 
tury, " a ferocious joy succeeded, all at once, to prayer and 
compunction. I have seen thirty of them at a table, each 
with a pistol at his side, quarrelhng, shouting, and delivering 
themselves up to orgies which always ended in the murder 
of some of them." 

Such was the condition of some parts of Upper Vivarais 
in 1770. At this day every thing is changed. No more 



244 CIVILIZATION OF THE EARTH BY WOMEN. 

armed men, no more savages, no more homicides ; but 
likewise, no more untilled ground, no more wretchedness, 
no more isolation. Easy roads wind over all the moun- 
tains, rich villages rise on the ruins of the most miserable 
hamlets. Every where you find ease in the place of indi- 
gence, humanity in the place of barbarism ; the men are 
bold and vigorous, the women fair and industrious ; young 
girls with black eyes and delicate hands, troops of young 
children with smiling faces, appear at the doors of all the 
cottages. One might call them a new people ; it is, how- 
ever, but a new generation, born under the shelter of a Tree, 
unknown to former generations. 

This tree is the mulberry. To effect these wonders the 
culture of a vegetable and the education of an insect have 
sufficed. It is necessary to see the country whose destiny 
has been thus changed. Floods of red and black lava, 
rivers of ashes, giant causeways, like those of Ireland, ba- 
saltic masses, which encased the torrents and crowned the 
mountains, these alone compose the whole soil of Vivarais. 
In front of the little town of Aubenas, three ranges of moun- 
tains rise in amphitheatre, like large steps, even to the 
Cevennes, which terminate them. The whole country has 
been burnt up and destroyed, and if its volcanoes were 
relighted, Aubenas would see around her sixty blazing 
mountains. 

Well ! these mountains, so long sterile, are now planted 
up to their very summits ; these plains, so long uncultivated, 
are now green and fertile ; every village has its plantations, 
and the very towns look like baskets of verdure. Aubenas 
is a lovely hillock, covered with houses, in the midst of a 
meadow covered with mulberry trees. The mulberry is 
every where : one might think it indigenous, so easily does 
it multiply itself. All along the sides, as well as on the 
plateau which crowns the summit, of Villeneuve-de-Berg, 
it multiplies itself. All along the sides, as well as on the 
summit, of Villeneuve-de-Berg, may be seen immense rocks, 
not belonging to the soil, yet covering its whole extent. It 
is as if a shower of aerolites had fallen from heaven. To 
know how they have been brought there is impossible, 
for there is no mountain above them. I say impossible, 
unless we are to believe that this mountain, with all stones 
that crown it, have been lifted up from below. Well I in 



CIVILIZATION OF THE EARTH BY WOMEN. 245 

the midst of this chaos, you still find the mulberry. After 
having fertilized volcanoes, it fertilizes the flint rock. 

Thus has Vivarais been transformed. A new culture 
has changed the lot of the women, and, through the women, 
has softened the brutality of the men. Would you civilize 
a region, give to it some plant useful to its neighbours, 
of easy cultivation, and such as to occupy the women 
at home. With this plant comes commerce, with com- 
merce come roads, with roads come ideas. Commerce 
enriches, roads civilize. We in vain look for those half- 
savages w^ho went armed to the church and to the tavern, 
and of whom Faujas de Saint-Fond has given us so pic- 
turesque but terrible a portrait. Then there were no roads ; 
now a superb route runs along the borders of the mountain, 
which it environs with its triple cincture. Forests of mul- 
berry trees display themselves at every turning, high and 
low, as far as the eye can see. They are almost in the 
ashes, almost in the mouth of the infernal gulf It is 
through verdant forests that we arrive at Thuye. The first 
house we see on entering the village, is one of luxury, sur- 
rounded by beautiful grounds; the second is a primary 
school, and the third an inn. These mountains, inhabited 
of old by ferocious peasants, and dangerous even to enter, 
have become places of pleasant resort for the inhabitants of 
the towns. Travellers find shelter there, and children re- 
ceive instruction. It is a tree, however, which has done all 
this. 

A Tree, a Man, and a Woman! for the benefit of nature 
do not show themselves at once to all eyes ; it requires the 
intelligence of genius to discover them, and the labour of 
the masses to propagate them. Oliver de Sevres, the illus- 
trious author of the '' Theatre d^ Agriculture et Mesnage des 
Champs,^^ was this man of genius. It was on his estate of 
Pradel, a league from Villeneuve-de-Berg, that the first 
mulberry trees ever seen in Vivarais, were planted by his 
care. Henry IV., who had heard of his success, wrote and 
asked him for some plants of this tree, in order, as he told 
Sully, to encourage industry amongst the people. His de- 
mand was attended to; and twenty thousand mulberry 
trees were immediately sent from the nurseries of Pradel to 
the royal domain. In order to give a more effectual exam- 



246 CIVILIZATION OP THE EAETH BY WOMEN. 

pie to France, the good king had them planted under his 
own eyes, in the garden of the Tuilleries. 

The ancient habitation of Oliver de Sevres yet exists. It 
is a modest mansion, placed like all the houses of that coun- 
try, in the midst of a field of mulberry trees. Its windows 
open upon plains and hills, equally planted with mulber- 
ries. Four years ago, as we passed through this district, a 
peasant, who acted as our guide, told us that, in 1815, 
having shown the Pradel to two Englishmen, they both 
knelt down at the threshold, as though they had been in 
some holy temple, honouring by that touching act the man 
who had civilized the country. 

But the most curious fact, and best calculated to place 
the glory of Oliver de Sevres in its true light, is the con- 
dition of the neighbouring regions. On arriving at the 
summit of the mountain, which separates Thuye from the 
Norse, we find a vast forest of firs, drawn, like a dark 
curtain, along the boundary of the two districts of Vivarais 
and Velay. There we take our leave of the mulberry ; 
there we enter on a new country. The hills are naked, 
the lands badly cultivated ; no more smiling orchards, no 
more blooming plantations, no more soft labours for the wo- 
men : neither leaves to gather, nor insects to look after. 
There all is changed ; physical and moral beauty have both 
alike disappeared. The women, performing the work of 
men, grow old before their time; the men are rude and 
coarse ; the children homely and wicked ; one might call 
them another race. Yet there is but one tree less in the 
country I 

We might cite other examples, but those already cited 
are sufficient. Resuming, therefore, the principal points 
touched upon in this chapter, we will conclude by saying : 

That the grossness and misery of almost all our rural 
population are a disgrace to the civilized world. A 

That the best means of putting an end to this state of 
barbarism is to reinstate the women in the occupations of 
their sex ; — that to reinstate woman in the occupations of 
her sex, is, in other terms, to prolong her life, her youth, 
her beauty. j 

That the habitual labours of the wife should be concen- i 
trated in the care of her house, and the education of her 
children. 



REACTION EdUAL TO ACTION. 247 

Lastly, that the mitigation of the lot of women, in the 
country, is the beginning of all civilization ; and that this 
may be effected in two ways ; in the house by the occupa- 
tions of the house ; and in the fields by the discovery of a 
plant or the culture of a fruit. Hence nothing is easier 
than this work of regeneration ; all souls are called to it ; 
for useful plants are numerous ; there are some for all soils 
and for all climates. Who can doubt of finding that which 
suits his ovv^n valley and his own mountain, when Providence 
sends us from the farthest bounds of Persia, of Arabia, and 
of China, the peach, the vine, and the mulberry tree, not 
solely to enrich great kingdoms, but to civilize poor villages, 
about which the kings of the earth have never dreamed? 



CHAPTER XXII. 

REACTION IS EQUAL TO ACTION ,' A PHYSICAL AND MORAL LAW 

OF NATURE. 

" Quand la politique humaine attache sa chaine au pied d'un esclave, la jus- 
tice divine en rive I'autre bout au cou du tyran." 

Bernardin de Saint-Pierre. 

Divine justice upon the earth is always the fulfilling of 
a law: God has arranged all, so that from our actions 
should arise the penalties or the rewards which they de- 
serve. Good reacts upon good — evil upon evil. The 
reaction may be more or less speedy, more or less visible ; 
no matter, it exists : it is equal to the action, and if its 
effects sometimes escape our observation, it is not because 
the law is inactive, it is simply because the last scene of the 
drama takes place in the depths of the conscience, between 
man and his God. 

It may be objected, that such a law tends to destroy our 
moral liberty. This is a mistake. Man is always free to 
choose between vice and virtue ; but when he has chosen, 
an event occurs which he is no longer able to control : an 
inevitable consequence, — the reaction of his action. 

We do not know enough of the matter to cease to be 
free; we know too much about it not to feel ourselves 
guilty of a part of the ills which bow down the human 
race. 



2A& BE ACTION EQUAL TO ACTION. 

Possessed of immense riches, thou art without pity for 
misery. Have a care, from this misery will arise robbery, 
assassination, and prostitution, all the scourges which swal- 
low up riches. 

Thou bringest up thy children in impiety, and thou 
darest to complain of their abandonment ; and I hear them 
curse their existence — a painful existence which leads to 
nought. What a fine present hast thou given them to de- 
serve their gratitude ! 

Thou wouldst have a rich and beautiful wife ; thou shalt 
have riches and beauty. But, my wife deceives me ; she 
ruins me ; she is carried into the vortex of the world, for- 
getting her husband, neglecting her home, abandoning her 
daughter to the care of a servant. What ! didst thou not 
ask for riches and beauty ? thou seest that thou hast for- 
gotten something else in thy bargain. 

Thou wouldst Hve by war ; thou shalt perish by war. 
The sword brings the sword, pillage induces pillage, mur- 
der induces murder. Men give to these reactions the 
name of vengeance : they mistake ; it is the law of God 
which is being fulfilled. Thus stands the law, as expressed 
by a man who had profoundly studied history: — "That 
which is obtained by war shall be retaken by war ; all spoils 
shall be restored, all booty shall be scattered. The con- 
queror shall be conquered, and every town full of the fruits 
of pillage shall be taken and pillaged in its turn." 

The action of a vice may appear to us agreeable, but the 
reaction is always bitter. " If headache and sickness 
affected us before intoxication," says Montaigne, « we 
should take care not to drink too much ; but pleasure, in 
order to deceive us, steps on before, and conceals from us, 
its sad consequences." 

The reaction of impiety is ingratitude and pride. 

The reaction of hatred is revenge. 

The reaction of egotism is abandonment. 

The reaction of celibacy is licentiousness and prostitu- 
tion. 

The reaction of riches is poverty of the soul and bodily 
infirmities. 

There are reactions of equity and happiness, as there are 
reactions of impiety and infamy. 

Thus the good and the evil are to a certain extent. 



REACTION EQUAL TO ACTION. 249 

the disposal of man. It suffices to know the law of nature ; 
that is to say, the actions of which the reaction is agreea- 
ble, and the actions of which the reaction is painful, in 
order to arrive by a new path at the knowledge of good and 
evil, of vice and of virtue. 

One may judge of the importance of a study which con- 
tains the secret of the future, and, if we may so express it, 
the direction of all our destinies. He who shall know the 
certain consequences of each human action (and these con- 
sequences are invariable) will know the ways of Divine 
justice ; and, like the prophets of antiquity, he will be able 
to reveal them to the world. 

What a prodigious science is that which can say to man, 
If thou dost such a thing, such a thing will happen to 
thee ; but the study is difficult, and full of accidents which 
deceive us. The reaction does not always take place in a 
direct manner. It sometimes strikes the performer of the 
action, sometimes those which surround him. Its justice 
appears to us slow and capricious. It overturns a throne, 
where we perceive only a tyrant to be punished : then 
come the exceptions which irritate us, and fill us with 
alarm. All this arises from our shortsightedness, and 
sometimes likewise from the extent of our pride. We form 
our judgments according to the laws of human justice ; 
and not according to the enlarged and profound views of 
universal aptitude, which is the justice of God. For want 
of positive rules for arriving at the truth, we will mention a 
fact, to which we cannot too strongly direct attention, for 
it may serve to enlighten us ; viz. that the more of virtue 
there is in man, of equity in the laws, of instruction and 
religion among the people, the more gentle are the reac- 
tions : life is more pleasurable, and the general well-being 
more certain. 

This fact is highly important ; it comprises the history 
of all times and of all places ; it shows us the rule of the 
great reactions which overthrow empires; and there results 
from it, that the only solid foundation of the happiness of 
liings is the happiness of the people ; as the only possible 
foundation of the happiness of the people is in liberty and 
j virtue. 

You overturn a throne ; you will have Danton and 



250 REACTION EQUAL TO ACTION. 

Robespierre. You overturn the altars ; you will have 
scaffolds and executioners. 

Men of high destinies are almost always the slaves of a 
great passion. So long as this passion triumphs, they ap- 
pear to be happy. And nevertheless the people wonder 
and tremble ; they foresee that the hero is marching be- 
neath the yoke of a fatal law, stronger than his fortune, 
stronger than all the human powers, and which urges him 
on to the catastrophe. 

This terrible reaction brought Robespierre to the scaf- 
fold, and removed Bonaparte from the world, conquered 
but not subdued, to cast him upon- the rock of St. Helena. 

I have never looked over the ♦' Discours" of Bossuet 
without being dazzled, and without apprehension. There 
is a something so terrible in these pages which record 
the history of ages : judgment follows so near to crime, and 
punishment so near to judgment! Nations die, and em- 
pires crumble to the dust: it is the book of eternal justice 
placed beneath the eyes of the human race. What lesson 
can be more terrible or more admirable, and yet what lesson 
is less listened to than this ! But, in those sublime pages 
where the priest assists at the last hour of all the nations of 
antiquity, modern periods have not reached their termina- 
tion. Our history is prolonged from action to action, from 
catastrophe to catastrophe, throughout twelve centuries of 
misfortunes, without arriving at that prodigious reaction 
which marks the end of an epoch: a frightful deluge of 
which the mutinous waves h?ve entirely swallowed up the 
whole race of the high and puissant lords of the middle 
ages, and thrown their privileges into the hands of a 
people-king. What, in fact, is the French revolution? 
The last scene of a grand drama began in the year 500 of 
our era; the contests of two castes against the nation, and 
of the nation against two castes. Open the book of history, 
and if you would understand the present, ask from it an 
account of the past. What a forgetfulness of God and of 
humanity do we not perceive ! The powerful reign, — that 
is to say, they crush the people, they divide among them- 
selves lands, honours, places, dignities, leaving only to the 
people which supplies them, misery, ignorance, and toil. 
Amidst this darkness the light never shines, but hatred 
accumulates, reactions prepare themselves, then the hour 



REACTION EQUAL TO ACTION. 251 

arrives, and the law is executed. Then the gulfs of hell are 
opened ; nothing is seen on the earth but the frightful work 
of executioners and demons. The man disappears amidst 
acts of vengeance and of blood. 

Great politicians have exhausted their science in seek- 
ing around us the causes of this dreadful catastrophe. They 
have accused Richelieu and Louis XVI., blaming in turns 
the vigour of the one and the weakness of the other. Some 
go on dreaming that a little more or a little less of strong 
will would have changed the law of time. The armies of all 
Europe have succumbed to it, like all the rest ; they have 
seen it, and they have forgotten it, and they would always 
appeal to force ; as if there were on the earth any force 
which could arrest the reaction of twelve centuries of crimes 
and misfortunes. 

And yet the history is not complete, the last hour of the 
gothic ages is tolling on every side, and kings still act as if 
we were in the middle ages. See them in Spain, Austria, 
Hungary, Prussia, Holland, Savoy, arming themselves 
furiously against the reaction which threatens them. Mad- 
men ! they still rely upon the executioner, and say to him, 
Make us reign; as if the man with bloody hands could 
command fate. But the executioner can do no more for 
kings ; when told to strike, he looks around him to seek for 
the criminals, and stops, astonished at the work required of 
him ! A hundred millions of heads alarm him. 

And who then is to save thrones, if the executioner is 
powerless? Kings themselves, if they will but be just. 
The reaction must come from them, and not from the 
people; it must come from their hands as a benefit, instead 
of from the hands of the people as a vengeance. This is 
the only path of safety which is open to them, and also the 
only means of arresting the terrible scourge of anarchy 
which destroys both people and kings. 

Such is the law of action and of reaction : it fulfils itself 
in a day, or in twelve centuries ; all people believe in it, and 
all men call for it ; it is, perhaps, the law of nature upon 
which the most of faith and hope reposes ! What complain- 
ings, therefore, and what groans arise at the slightest ap- 
pearance of an exception ; one would believe that the world 
was distracted ! A great criminal remains unpunished ; one 
of the agents of Robespierre, the assassin or the accom- 



252 MAN ALWAYS INCLINES TO THAT 

plice of a king; and there he is drinking, eating, and smil- 
ing at his victims ! Earth is then forsaken ! Heaven is 
then powerless. Then they blaspheme, and cry out, and 
the voice of multitudes is raised to apprise Providence that 
a wicked wretch is about to escape — as if eternity were not 
before him. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

MAN ALWAYS INCLINES TO THAT WHICH IS MOST GREAT AND 
BEAUTIFUL A MORAL LAW OF NATURE. 

• • • • " Voyez a'nos spectacles, 
Quand on peint quelque trait de candeur, de bonte 
Ou brille en son jour la tendre humanite, 
Tous les cceurs sontremplis d'une volupte pure, 
£t c'est la qu'on entend le cri de la nature !" 

Cresset. 

" Quand I'homme detrompede I'humaine grandeur 
Contemple de la nuit la lugubre splendeur; 
Et ces brillants deserts, et ces voutes profondea 
Ou des mondes sans fin eclatent sur des mondes, 
Abime dans I'extase, il cherche, audacieux 
Quelle main a seme les soleils dans les cieux, 
Quel monarque cache dans sa toute-puissance 
S'eleve encore plus grand que son empire immense." 

De Fongerville. 

When society rests its foundations (point d'appui) upon 
the material well-being, it renders men active, eager, rest- 
less, intelligent ; enemies to each other, insatiable in pursuit 
of riches and pleasures. On seeing a whole people thus 
attached to the wheel of fortune, one would suppose them 
incapable of sublime actions and thoughts. And yet, if you 
cause to shine on a sudden before this greedy multitude a 
sentiment which awakens its soul, — if you present to it, I do 
not say hopes of happiness, but something great or generous 
to be effected, all the bad passions are hushed, personal 
interest is forgotten, and a whole people are prodigal of 
their riches and their lives, in order to procure the triumph 
of that which they believe to be just or great. The rudest 
soldier braves death only because his soul is excited by the 
illusions of glory which he will not enjoy, but which he 
attaches to his colours, or to his general. What did all our 
brave men pursue, who fell on the fields of Austerlitz and 



WHICH IS GREAT AND BEAUTIFUL. 253 

Wagram ? An imperceptible portion of the immense renown 
of their chief. It was not the man— it was not the emperor 
—it was nothing earthly that the soldiers worshipped in 
Bonaparte: it was the illusions of his glory— the infinity of his 
power and of his genius, and an indefinite something of the 
magnificent, which radiated upon themselves from the con- 
quest of the world. 

But what more striking example of this position is 
there, than the establishment of Christianity? The earth 
was covered with temples, in which men worshipped their 
own passions; when a voice arose, which, despising the 
idols of the world, called men to a more perfect good than 
the goods of the earth, and placed their future destiny, not 
in this life, but in eternity. From this time the vocation of 
the people declared itself, and the army of martyrs was 
formed. A something superior to earthly riches and plea- 
sures was shown them, and they hastened to it triumphantly : 
they hastened to it through tortures and death. 

Thus, the man of the people, the soldier, the martyr, and 
the saint, equally incline towards that which they know to 
be great or beautiful. As often as you explore history, so 
often will you see the multitude detaching itself from its 
bad passions beneath the influence of magnanimous passions 
or sentiments. 

I That which we admire in the masses, we find in indivi- 
duals. Every reader of Tacitus or of Plutarch can bear 
witness to this great law of nature. Our soul flies to meet 
all that they narrate of noble and generous : it recognises 
itself, if we may so speak, in these heroic deeds, joyfully 
accepting exile or death in the bosom of virtue ; identifying 
itself with Socrates or Aristides, but never with Anytus or 
Sylla, even when at the summit of their power and their 
triumph. And, what indignation does it not feel at their 
crimes! what disgust at their pleasures? and what con- 
tempt for this fortune which raised them so high, and which 
gave rise among the people of their age to so much envy 
and fear ! 

This is a sentiment which comes in colHsion with our 
senses, and places us in opposition to our strongest material 
interests ; to all the animal pleasures, the will of enjoying, 
of commanding, and of Uving. Do you not discover in thTs 
passion for the heau ideal a being of another nature than 



254 MAN ALWAYS INCLINES TO THAT 

the lion or the tiger ? To die is nothing, but to die for an 
idea of which the reward is not in this world, — my soul, 
what a sublime manifestation is this of thy immortality ! 

Thus, in order to regulate the grosser passions, it will 
suffice to oppose to them celestial passions. Man follows 
the law of his being, and raising himself by degrees above 
his material desires, he at last attains the only treasures 
which there is not greatness of soul in despising. 

Do not believe that these sentiments derive their source 
from education and civihzation ; they belong to our nature, 
and not to our schools, nor to the world : they are found 
among savages, and even in the most barbarous countries 
of Africa. 

The sentiment of the great and beautiful is then every 
where — I mean wherever there is a man. We are not 
permitted to comprehend it, but we are allowed to enjoy 
it : it is at the same time the most powerful promoter of the 
moral sentiment, and the most direct means of arriving at 
truth. This is the reason why the sciences produce nothing 
of a superior kind except through the means of this senti- 
ment ; they owe to it all that they do not owe to chance, 
— that is to say, all the transcendental discoveries of 
genius. Let us reflect for a moment on this law of nature, 
which may have so much influence on the human race, 
and which we will thus express — 

Truth is always found in that which is most great and 
beautiful. 

The principle is vast ; it opens out to the sciences an 
interminable career ; but in order to know the whole of its 
extent, we must make the application of it to the discoveries 

of genius. 

In ancient times, Heraclitus maintained that the sun was 
only a foot in diameter, and Anaxagoras excited the incre- 
dulity of Greece, by stating this luminary to be equal in 
extent to the Peloponnesus. 

Thus a burning coal of a foot in diameter, or of the size 
of a province, such was the sun of the ancient philosophers. 
How many degrees in the sentiment of the sublime and 
beautiful were required to be traversed, before arriving at 
a more correct knowledge of this eternal source of colours, 
of odours, and of life; which warms our atmosphere, 
revives nature, sustains worlds by its own weight, and 



^ 



WHICH IS GREAT AND BEAUTIFUL. 255 



which, as measured by Huygens, is found to be thirteen 
hundred thousand times larger than the earth. 

The ancients made of the sky a crystal canopy, and 
regarded the constellations in it but as so many torches, 
imagining nothing more than that which they thought they 
perceived. But these impeneneirable heavens, this sohd 
roof which they believed rested upon our earth, in propor- 
tion as curiosity observed them, and as the sentiment of 
the sublime and beautiful elevated mankind, became sepa- 
rated into several portions like children's playthings: the 
infinity of space; the infinity of worlds; the infinity of 
suns correspond to the infinity of power. Let us look 
nearer to ourselves ; in this milky way, where our sun, 
with all the planets which it vivifies and attracts, occupies 
only an imperceptible point ; what a multitude of wonders, 
unknown to bygone ages! At one point are perceived 
double stars ; at another, two suns of enormous dimensions, 
forming by themselves an entire system ; they suffice to each 
other, supplying each other with light, the one revolving 
around the other. Among these suns there are some which 
require forty years, others six thousand years, to perform the 
double circle of their immense revolution. Farther off in 
another heaven, the heaven of Sideral astronomy,* modern 

science discoversluminousmasses of infinitely-varied shapes; 
round, oval, square, triangular, spear-shaped, fan-shaped, 
resembling a tree, a mountain, or unfolding themselves like 
the circles of an immense snake, or, lastly, transparent; 
allowing us to perceive at an immense depth, other whitish 
masses which float in other spaces; and these masses so 
varied in their forms, are composed of an aggregation of 
worlds and of suns. Ah ! that was a sublime hour when 
the great Herschel, and the son who pursues his glorious 
career, met for the first time in the realms of space, with 
these oceans of stars which have been termed nebulous, on 
account of the dusky lights which they radiate. Two feeble 
creatures, while yet enveloped with their earthly covering, 
had sprung upwards into infinity, and it was permitted them 
to contemplate that which no mortal had hitherto contem- 
plated. More fortunate than Newton, that great explorer of 
the heavens, they had overleaped the limits of the visible 

* This name is given to the science which takes cognizance of the celestial 
bodies placed out of the limits of the solar system. 



256 MAN INCLINES TO THE GREAT AND BEAUTIFUL. 

creation, and suddenly found themselves emerging from 
darkness, amidst myriads of suns, animated with myriads 
of movements, which arose like a living wall before them. 

This was the extent of the vision of the learned men ; 
this is the limit of our knowledge, but not the limits of 
creation. 

Mount, mount still higher, and the nearer you approach 
to that which is most sublime and beautiful, so much the 
nearer will you approach to truth. Truth is richer than 
imagination ; she overleaps it on all sides. 

You have just seen the constellations muUiplied like the 
sands of the sea ; mount, mount yet higher. Plunge with 
Herschel into this abyss of light and fire. The great man 
aspires to that which is most grand ; his soul foreknows 
that all these stars which radiate in space must have their 
animated and intelligent beings. What is to him a sun 
which would do no more than impart light? God has 
every where given himself spectators. Full of this thought, 
he observes the constellation whose presence constitutes 
our day, and he soon discovers that it is an opaque planet, 
somewhat resembling the earth, and not a burning fire ; 
that light does not emanate from its interior, but that it 
floats in an atmosphere as the clouds float in ours ; that 
it is there perpetually formed to radiate upon worlds, and 
doubtless likewise upon the sun itself, to which it gives 
light; which it fertilizes, and which it would have con- 
sumed a hundred times over, if, by means which are un- 
known to us, the devouring heat of its fire were not con- 
stantly tempered. And he infers from this, that "the 
phenomenon of life is produced in the sun, as on the earth, 
but under different forms and conditions ;"* thus surpassing 
the profound conceptions of Huygens, who, while peopling 
the stars, had not dared to people the sun ;t the younger 
Herschel raises himself a degree higher towards the sublime; 
he feels that intelligence is every where, because he recog- | 
nises every where a God. Hence, all the luminous points 
of the firmament are animated by prayer and by love; 
each planet, each star, each sun, each milky way is an altar 
which burns, and whence arises the hymn of praise ; and 
the totality of these planets, of these stars and suns, is the 

* Philosophical Transactions, 1828. ,. t .• i.^iq 

t JMouveau Traite de la Pluralite des Mondes. Translated from the Latin, 171B. 



PERFECTIBILITY OP THE HUMAN RACE. 257 

temple of the divinity ; and these sublime choruses which 
resound from world to world, form the worship of an end- 
less creation, an eternal, incomprehensible worship heard 
by God alone, amidst the harmony of the spheres, through- 
out space, time, and eternity. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

OF THE PERFECTIBILITY OF THE HUMAN RACE A MORAL LAW 

OF NATURE. 

" Oh la belle, la noble destinee d'avaneer toujours vers la perfection, sans ren- 
contrer jamais le terrae de ses progres." 

Ancillon. De la Destination de I'Homme. 

Within the depths of our soul there reposes a sentiment 
of which moralists have scarcely had a glimpse, and which, 
nevertheless, exercises great power over the human race, 
viz. that man, whatever may be in other respects his 
ignorance or his enlightenment, will only recognise in 
reason and in justice, the right of ruling over him. It 
results from this, that nations obey the hardest laws, the 
most extravagant superstitions, only because they believe 
them to be just and reasonable. Under this sentiment, 
which is so simple, the greatest events in history come to 
arrange themselves. 

This sentiment is sublime, for it testifies, (and this in 
opposition to the calumnies of sophists respecting our love 
for falsehood,) it evidences, I say, that we attach ourselves 
to error, only in as far as it is presented to us in the garb 
of truth. Carry your ideas back to the middle ages, see 
the people bowed down before the nobles, and the nobility 
kings and people bowed down before the priesthood. 
Wherefore this double abjection ? It is because the supe- 
riority of noble races was a conviction of the people, as 
the holiness of the priests was a conviction of the nobles 
and of kings. But let one of these two powers, that which 
influences the people, for instance, understand its error, 
immediately its chains fall, and, stripping itself of a belief 
which retained it in slavery, it hastens to seek that justice 
in which alone it recognises the right of commanding. 

17 



258 PERFECTIBILITY OF THE HUMAN RACE. 

Certainly, I had great reason to call sublime, a sentiment 
which maintains the dignity of man even beneath the rod 
of despotism, and which renders him free upon the first 
glimmerings of truth. 

In this universal sentiment we recognise a law of nature, 
a law against which all the superstitions and tyrannical 
legislations of the world come one by one to destroy them- 
selves. 

This law likewise connects itself in a surprising manner 
with two other laws, which concur to the same end. Thus, 
man loves truth, and aspires to it : the first law of nature. 
But in the search after it he requires a guide, and this guide 
he carries within him. 

Man inclines always to that which is most great and 
beautiful : the second law of nature. 

Lastly, these two laws may be considered as the source 
of a third ; viz. the law of perfectibility, which affects all 
people by the same impulse, though not with the same 
degree of movement, (some being more forward, others 
more backward,) towards the fulfilment of all the laws of 
nature. 

This was only discovered towards the end of the last 
century; — Condorcet, from his dungeon, hastened to cast it 
out to the world. The thought was great, but he merely 
had a glimpse of it, leaving to the following age the glory 
of making the providential application of it to the develope- 
ment of morality and humanity upon the earth. 

Such is the obect of the law ; or, to speak plainer, such 
is the great work imposed upon the human race. What 
will be the end of this work ? I know not. All that it is 
possible for us to have a glimpse of, is, that there is a mis- 
sion given, a road more or less long to be travelled over, 
and that the moral world, though revolving in darkness, is 
continually approaching nearer to the light. 

Those who have combated this law have imagined that 
it proclaimed the progressive increase of human intellect. 
Full of this idea, they ask what poet can we compare to 
Homer, what philosopher to Socrates, what warrior to 
Epaminondas ? they then rejoice at their triumph, even 
before having understood the question. In fact, perfecti- 
bility is not the power of changing the nature of man : it is 
simply the expression of the movement of the masses and 



PERFECTIBILITY OF THE HUMAN RACE. 259 

of the progress of humanity. Considering all the people 
on the earth as a single naan, it inquires whether this being 
be anaeliorated since the beginning of the world : it asks 
him what he was at the time of Sesostris, and what he is 
at the present day ; the errors which he has destroyed, and 
the truths which he has brought to light : all which he has 
left upon his path, and all which he h£is collected on it in 
the course of more than six thousand years. Magnificent 
spectacle of human destinies, the circle of which expands 
in proportion as each new century passes on to eternity. 

It would be the history of a lofty conception, that of the 
progress of truth upon the earth. The greatest glories, 
the bloody glories, would occupy in it but the smallest 
space; all the people would be excluded from it who have 
left nothing to the world. 

Egypt, notwithstanding its castes, its idolatry, its slavery, 
and the mutilation of men, might obtain in it some lines. 
This country was a vast workshop, where a multitude of 
hands worked for the profit of the master. But whilst 
darkness enveloped the people, a hidden light shone in the 
temples and in the tombs; — Pythagoras and Plato went 
thither to seek wisdom, and with this light the sceptre of 
civilization was transferred to Greece. 

Athens and Sparta presented the spectacle of two free 
nations. It was the first trial of this truth, yet unknown, 
that all men being equal before the gods, ought to be equal 
before the laws. Greece bequeathed this principle to Rome, 
together with the doctrines of Socrates, the example of his 
death, and the idea of an only. God, as the source of all 
truth. 

Rome profited but little by the legacy. She prided her- 
self upon the love of country, and upon her family virtues : 
the chastity of a woman, and a temple raised to filial piety, 
established her power, and made her great in the eyes of 
the gods and men. She held the earth in her chains ; she 
exhibited to it the example of the most heroic devotedness ; 
but upon her fall she left to it none of thosa great truths 
which are the patrimony of the human race. 

And this is not one of those thoughtless accusations 
which history takes pleasure in contradicting. 

Open Tacitus and Titus Livius, you perceive Rome 
powerful ; Rome knows how to fight, to conquer, and to 



260 PERFECTIBILITY OF THE HUMAN RACE. 

civilize ; but she adds nothing to the legacy of Greece, she 
takes off nothing from the ferocity of her civilization. 
Polytheism, idolatry, slavery, the glory of suicide, the 
bloody games of the circus, human sacrifices, the earth 
declared barbarian, the people considered as a prey, and 
the right of arms raised above moral right ; such are the 
popular errors, the religious, patriotic and political cruel- 
ties, against which during more than twenty centuries no 
complaining voice was raised. 

Antiquity was shrouded by these errors as by a veil, 
which concealed from its genius the greatness of God, the 
dignity of man, and the laws of nature. 

The progress of ancient society was restricted to these 
three ideas, — unity in marriage, civil and political liberty, 
and equality before the law. These two latter principles 
were, however, circumscribed within the narrowest limits ; 
they did not emanate from the nation, and they afforded no 
help to the conquered. It was not the man which the law 
honoured, it was the citizen. 

This was the moral work of forty centuries. Then the 
great empire fell, and with it all the ancient fabric of 
society. Amidst these ruins the rights of the citizen were 
lost, but those of the man were again found. They served 
to lay the foundation for a more enlarged, a more fruitful, 
and especially a more human order of things ; they were 
based upon the unity of God, from which arises the unity 
of the human race. 

It is from Jesus Christ that we derive this light. He 
caused the veil to fall which concealed from the world the 
God of Moses transfigured by love ; he restored the chil- 
dren to the father, and the father to the children ; and the 
loftiest idea of Socrates became at once prevalent among 
the people. 

Moral life is then enlarged with a thought which was 
wanting to Socrates, to Plato, and Aristides, and which one 
vainly seeks for in Moses. Jesus Christ caused it to be 
heard from the cross : it was lost amidst barbarity, and 
after eighteen centuries of conflict, we again find it in the 
Gospel. 

This single idea, thrown out amidst a world of masters 
and slaves, eflfected a ^reat revolution. Rome still reigned 
over the whole world, and all over the world there were 



PERFECTIBILITY OF THE HUMAN RACE. 261 

markets where man bought and sold his fellow-man. The 
thought of Jesus Christ was only comprehended by the 
victims; all the rest, people, kings, moralists, sophists, 
perceived in it only an ideal conception, a theory which 
might be discussed, perhaps the dream of a philosopher, 
till of a sudden the virtuous will of the civilized world was 
called into activity by the power of this dream. 

From all that has preceded, we may conclude that mo- 
rality and policy have undergone three great revolutions : 
the belief in one only God, manifested by the Hebrews and 
by Socrates; the first appearance on the earth of political 
liberty, manifested by the Greeks ; the realization of these 
two ideas; and further, the destruction of slavery, the 
powerful work of Jesus Christ. These are the first chap- 
ters of the moral history of the human race. 

Humanity progresses then, and it progresses towards the 
attainment of truth. The law of nature draws it on towards 
this object, of which the regeneration of the world will be 
the completion. That this progress should have been at 
first a little slow may easily be conceived, the first truths 
are the most difllicult to discover ; but at the present day 
the movement is accelerated, and the progress has become 
more rapid. 

The unity of God, — the unity of the human race, — the 
love of humanity, — the abolnion of castes, — the subjection 
of the rights of the citizen to the rights of man, — and, 
liberty of conscience. 

All these truths were unknown to the ancients, and mark 
well, they are all truths which harmonize with the laws of 
nature. But this advancement is only the prelude to the 
progress which yet remains to be eflfected. 

So long as our eyes shall see crime triumphant and per- 
secuting virtue, — so long as the popular masses shall be 
deprived of intelligence, and of those noble developements 
of the soul which distinguish us from the brute, — so long 
as man shall possess man as a merchandise, or as a beast 
of burden, — so long as there exist beggars, tyrants, and 
executioners, and human blood flows upon the earth, the 
law will not be fulfilled. The work of perfectibility is to 
cause the fall one by one of all these sufferings and oppro- 
bria with which society surrounds us at our birth; a divine 
and certain law, which leaves us no repose, which speaks 



262 FIRST APPEARANCE OF POLITICAL LIBERTY. 

to the human race as death speaks to man, in the terrible 
phrase of Bossuet, " Onwards — onwards !" and all civilized 
nations answer, while looking up to heaven, " We advance !" 



CHAPTER XXV. 

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT. 

FIRST APPEARANCE OF POLITICAL LIBERTY ON THE EARTH A 

FRAGMENT OF THE MORAL HISTORY OF THE HUMAN RACE. 

" En etudiant I'histoire il me semble qu'on acquiert la conviction que tous les 
evenemens principaux tendeni au meme but, la civilization universelle." 

Madame de Stael. De la Lilteraiure. 

The appearance of liberty on the earth constitutes a 
grand epoch in the history of the world. Man breaks the 
chains of despotism, and chooses for himself a better con- 
dition. Man can then choose; man can then move; he 
can then create. First manifestation of the law of pro- 
gress, — first revelation of a moral work imposed on the 
human race ! Happy discovery! Magnificent spectacle ! 

Asia, with its gigantic cities, its cyclopean monuments, 
its stationary arts and sciences, its despotic system of mur- 
der and rapine, its flocks of men, its barbarity, its luxury, 
its magnificence, was without a rival on the globe, until a 
small colony escaped from its bosom, and settled amidst the 
mountains of Greece. There, forgotten by all, they laid 
aside by degrees their Asiatic habits and manners. A sun 
less powerful, a less enervating climate, a more rude and 
active life, inspired them with new ideas: they developed 
the arts, perfected philosophy, established marriage, soft- 
ened down the worship of the gods, and already thought 
of ameliorating the condition of the multitude. This latter 
idea commenced the regeneration of the world, and from 
this period we must date the intellectual birth of nations. 
Up to this time all governments had been theocratic and 
despotic, and all nations enchained. Well, it was in the 
face of these nations and of these despots, who pressed on 
them from all quarters, that in a little corner of the world, 
a handful of men imagined and founded liberty. 

Then began a new epoch in the history of the human 



FIRST APPEAHANCE OF POLITICAL LIBERTY. 263 

race : the two political systems were in the presence of 
each other. On the one hand, dark and silent slavery, the 
degradation of polygamy, and the unlimited power which 
only engenders monsters ; on the other, the glorious liberty 
which produces heroes. In the palaces of Babylon and 
Nineveh, you see unbridled license, terror reigns, feasts of 
cannibals, debauchery, incest, parricide, and fratricide take 
place. There is there no family, no country, and the blood 
of the people is of less value than that of the vilest herd. At 
Athens, at Sparta, on the contrary, it is the people who 
reign; a sublime though incomplete sentiment, the love of 
country, gives to them a moral force unknown throughout 
the whole of Asia, and which must conquer or regenerate 
it. On looking at Greece, one feels that man has there 
regained his rights. Woman is no longer a merchandise, 
she is respected as a wife and as a mother. Violence no 
longer exists in the city; it is only exercised in w^ar on 
barbarians; but, alas! barbarians cover the earth, barba- 
rians surround Greece. Athens was like a luminous point 
in the darkness, but which was one day, like the sun, to give 
light to the world. 

It was not therefore an ordinary conflict between Persia 
and Greece. The historians, who have seen, at Marathon 
and at Salamis, merely the hostile encounter of two nations, 
and the destiny of two cities, have understood nothing 
which relates to this epoch ; doubtless the most memorable 
in antiquity. There was in it a something terrible and 
solemn ; it was the contest between two principles, liberty 
and slavery, light and darkness, good and evil. It was a 
question not merely whether armies were to be extermi- 
nated, and nations to be conquered, but to know whether 
man be born to serve eternally the caprice of a tyrant; or 
whether perfectibility be the law of our nature; whether 
God, by placing us upon the earth, has given us an object 
to attain, a task to perform, and whether this task be the 
perfecting of humanity. This is the point which w^as con- 
tested between Asia and Greece. The destiny of the world 
then depended upon three men, whose mission was wholly 
providential. Miltiades at Marathon, Leonidas at Ther- 
mopyla3, and Themistocles at Salamis, thought only of 
devoting themselves for their country: while, in fact, they 
fought for the safety of the human race. 



264 IDEA OF THE UNITY OF GOD. 

Suppose them to have been conquered ; see Greece 
perish with them, and see civilization, with its fruits, letters, 
arts, sciences, perish with Greece, the luminous point which 
was destined to be enlarged and to illuminate the earth, 
would have been extinguished, and perhaps for ever. What 
obstacle could then have arrested the torrent of the Persian 
armies? Rome was at that time ignorant and weak. 
Xerxes would have stifled it at its birth. Carthage, more 
commercial than warlike, would have prostrated itself be- 
fore the gold of Asia ; five millions of soldiers would have 
inundated Macedonia, and prevented the exploits of Alex- 
ander. Lastly, Europe was then composed only of savage 
tribes, of which the Roman armies were destined to com- 
mence the civilization at a later period, but which would 
have been lost, like the rest of the world, in the darkness of 
Oriental slavery. 

The defeat of the Persians was then a fortunate circum- 
stance for humanity; but it did not end the contest, since 
this contest still lasts after so many ages ; and in our own 
times the nations of Europe are still found to be divided, as 
were formerly Greece and Asia. On the one hand, a free 
people ; on the other, autocrats and absolute kings. The 
spectacle has only changed its locality; it has passed from 
the east to the west; but the army of the free people 
advances ; it reckons at the present day in its ranks all 
that is enlightened, noble, and generous upon the earth ; 
besides, it knows that it fulfils the law of Providence, which 
Themistocles did not know ; and it has thus been able to 
take for its device the victorious cry of the crusaders, 
" God wills it." 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

HOW THE IDEA OF THE UNITY OF GOD BECAME PREVALENT 
AMONG THE PEOPLE. 

" Les hommes dont la passion a corrompu le jugement ne savent pas sui vre les 
traces de la verite." Bossuet. 

The civil liberty of nations is the first step of the human 
race in the path of progress, that is to say, the primary 
condition of all other progress. 



LABOUR A PHYSICAL AND MORAL LAW. 2(55 

The chains of despotism do not weigh less on the nnind 
than on the body ; despots reign only by force and false- 
hood ; they know that the sword may sometimes destroy 
them, but that truth always destroys them. 

It is then only among a free people that truth can arise. 
And if there had not been free nations on the earth, the 
thought of an only God, of a God the Creator, could never 
have consoled the human race. 

Observe, in point of fact, whence this thought has arisen ; 
seize it at its origin, that you may prostrate yourself and 
worship it. You will neither prostrate yourself, before 
Babylon nor before Memphis, those towns of idolatry and 
opprobrium. The first revelation of the unity of God mani- 
fested itself to two nations who had escaped as if by a 
miracle from the chains of slavery ; to the Israelites who had 
become free by the genius of Moses ; to the Greeks who had 
become free by the institutions of Solon. 

And, although expanded by the joys of liberty, the heart 
of these people was not sufficiently enlarged to contain this 
thought. Moses remained alone without being understood ; 
and at a later period Socrates experienced the same fate. 
All that these two great men could do, was to protest before 
God against the blindness of the people, and to bequeath 
their ideas to future ages. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

LABOUR A PHYSICAL AND MORAL LAW OF NATURE WHICH 

ESTABLISHES THE RIGHT OF PROPERTY. 

" C'est une loi que la nature nous impose, afin de nous donner un droit. 
*' Quiconque violera cette loi renoncera a sa propre nature et se depouillera de 
rhumanite." Ciceron. Republique. 

It is not our intention to consider fully so vast a subject, 
but merely to state the principle. 

Here is a fact worthy of attention. 

Wild nature may suffice for the miserable existence of 
some savage tribes: it cannot suffice for the existence of 
civilized nations. In order that the earth may enable 
nations to live, man must moisten it with his sweat, and fer- 



266 LABOUR — A PHYSICAL AND 

tilize it by means of his intelligence. Society is possible 
only through labour, and society is a law of nature ; whence 
it follows that labour is the necessary fulfilling of this law. 

Cast your eyes upon desert countries ; the earth there 
produces nothing but dark forests, the resort of wild beasts 
and of venomous reptiles; the air is unhealthy; vegetation 
is supported by corruption and decomposition, which is de- 
structive to man. You see onlv stacrnant waters, or rivers 
unrestramed m their conrse and without banks; coarse 
fruits, hard and thorny herbs, an exuberance of vegetation 
which prevents fertility, a stupendous nature which as- 
tonishes, but which is only solitude, war, and death. A 
magnificent creation, the domain of animals, but not of 
man, and which awaits the hand of the latter to become his 
property in becoming his work. 

Thus the physical mission of man here below is to re- 
organize the earth which he inhabits, the air which he 
breathes, and even the vegetable productions which are to 
shelter, clothe or nourish him. The ear of corn is filled 
only by means of his hand ; the fruits of the tree are 
sweetened only by his cultivation ; he chooses for himself 
companions from among animals, and makes them work 
with him and for him. He goes to seek iron and gold in 
the bowels of the earth, and makes use of them to embellish 
and fertilize it. At his command forests disappear, rivers 
re-enter their beds, climates are changed, the air is purified, 
flowers are multiplied, the rank and sterile grass of the sa- 
vannas gives place to verdant meadows, the vine grows in 
festoons among the hills, and rich crops present themselves 
to the view on every side. Thus rude nature becomes ob- 
literated, and the gardens of Eden are realized. Each step 
which man impresses upon the earth marks a conquest; he 
is charged to perfect creation, and God lends him a part of 
his creative power. 

Two thousand years ago, England, France, and Ger- 
many presented the aspect of the primitive forests of 
America — man has modified all, even to the productions of 
the earth. 

Csesar relates, that the cold prevented the cultivation of 
the vine in Gaul — man has thus modified even climates. 

It is by labour that he has reclaimed Europe, it is by labour 
that he reclaims America. On its uncultivated soil you see 



MORAL LAW OF NATURE. 267 

labour advancing like an indefatigable giant, whose thousand 
hands restrain rivers, level mountains, destroy forests, and 
raise cities; and from this terrific and incessant struggle 
there arises a more smiling and fruitful nature, of which man 
is at the same time the master and the creator. 

This is the manner in which labour justifies the property 
of the country by the nation, and of the soil by individuals. 
For labour not only constitutes the elements of society, it 
establishes a right — the right of property. 

The earth has been given to all ; the fruits of labour are 
given to individuals. 

This is what those sophists will not understand who 
attribute property to force, and who seek its origin in the 
right of the first occupant ; as if violence were any thing 
else than a fact, or could constitute a right. 

Property has its roots in man himself; it is the want of 
his being, the product of his intelligence, the link of society, 
the right of labour. Those who talk of annihilating it, and 
of establishing a republican and monkish community, in 
which all goods would be in common, prove only one thing, 
viz. the complete ignorance in which they are respecting 
the faculties of man and the law of nature. To destroy 
property is, though under another name, to destroy society. 

Man at his birth is naked and possesses nothing. Later 
in life, by his industry he acquires clothing, a house, a garden; 
thus it is that he takes possession of the earth, changes its 
aspect, and makes it his property by the right of labour. 
From his wants and his weakness, his well-being, his right, 
and his sovereignty arise. 

And this law, the action of which has been prepared by 
our intelHgence and by our nakedness ; this law, of which 
the yoke appears to us so burthensome, and of which the 
result is so magnificent, takes, as we have just said, its root 
in the human heart. The child wishes to possess: he 
scarcely yet knows himself, and he already understands the 
meaning of property. If one of his comrades lend him a 
plaything, he amuses himself with it, but his pleasure is in- 
complete, — possession is wanting. He desires, and still 
desires until he can say, " This is mine." 

And further ; labour is one of the necessities of our nature 
— one of the conditions of the duration of families and of 
the perpetuity of races, as is proved by the observations of 



268 LIFE AND DEATH 

Fresnel. This young philosopher, whose discoveries a few 
years ago obUterated at once nearly half of the book 
of Laplace, the Systeme du Monde, and the whole of the 
great work of Newton on Light — this great genius, whose 
premature death science has to deplore, had remarked that 
whenever four generations succeeded each other, without 
occupying themselves with manual labour, the children 
which constitute the fifth generation die young, and with 
diseases of the chest; labour with the arms being indispen- 
sable to the proper developement of the organs of respira- 
tion. 

History likewise corroborates this observation. It shows 
us the feudal nobility strong and robust, as long as they 
gave themselves up to the rude toils of arms and of chivalry, 
but weak, debilitated, and sickly, from the time that the 
invention of gunpowder had restored them to idleness. 

The twofold exercise of the mind and body is, then, the 
law of nature. Nature orders us to cultivate, to build, to 
create, to control, with iron, with fire, by our genius; and 
she commands this, not to a class of men, but to all men ; 
she desires not that some should exhaust themselves, while 
others remain idle. Her justice is universal and' without 
exception : all must obey, for upon obedience depends the 
conservation of races, whereas their cessation ensues upon 
the infraction of the law. 

Thus, property is founded, on the one hand, upon the 
desire of possessing, which is natural to man ; and on the 
other hand, on the necessity of labour, on which depend the 
perfecting of nature, the life of families, and the duration of 
races. These two laws harmonize admirably with another 
moral law of our code, viz. sociability. 



CHAPTER XXVIIL 

LIFE AND DEATH A LAW OF NATURE. 

" Qui apprendroit les hommes a mourir, leur apprendroit a vivre. Vostre mort 
est une des pieces de I'ordre de I'univers: c'est une piece de la vie du monde." 

Montaigne. 

Death is neither a law of hatred nor a law of vengeance ; 
it is the condition of that which is. God has opposed it to 
life in order to maintain life. 



A LAW OF NATURE. 269 

The flowers of spring must fade, in order that autumn 
may produce its fruits ; generations must pass away, that 
love may produce its fruits. Life and death act Hke a 
single power: the one is charged to clear the place, the 
other to refill it ; their visible end is not to create, not to 
destroy, but to perpetuate the great spectacle of nature. 

Thus, there is nothing more remarkable than the harmony 
of these two powers, and, if we may so express it, than the 
equality of their labour. They advance at an equal pace, 
without either overtaking or passing each other ; life sows, 
death reaps ; and the reproductions and losses counterpoise 
each other. The destiny of the world depends upon the 
preservation of this equilibrium. You could not give death 
an advantage over life, or to life over death, without anni- 
hilating creation, for creation is the work of death as well 
as of life. 

And, this is so true, that in order to cause life to cease 
upon the earth, it would be sufficient to establish a single 
exception to the law of death, I do not say in the human 
race, but in the most ephemeral being — a plant, a gnat, a 
fly, a fish. The seeds of a single poppy would cover the 
earth in six years, and no more than three years would be 
required for a whiting to encumber the seas with its pro- 
geny. Fortunately, death is always on the watch. Fore- 
seeing and preserving, it prevents these frighful multiplica- 
tions, without ever annihilating the species; it saves the 
world from the excess of life. 

In this respect, we will dare to say, that death is but the 
instrument of life. All its power is reduced to changing 
the forms of matter which it cannot destroy, and which 
life again takes from it. Thus, death has only power over 
the form. The essence of all things escapes it. A similar 
fact presents to our souls something more than hope ! 

It is, then, from not knowing death that we surround it 
with apprehension. It is a crime for a man to kill a man, 
because he takes away that which he cannot restore; but 
in the hands of God, it opens out a passage to the human 
race ; it calls generations upon the earth. Were the work 
of death to be suspended, this immense stream would cease 
to flow. When the perceptible object of death is to mul- 
tiply existences, can its imperceptible object be to anni- 
hilate ? 



270 LIFE AND DEATH 

And yet, moralists do not cease to tell us of the terrors 
of death : some regard it as a scourge ; others as a punish- 
ment. But if death be a law of vengeance, life is a law of 
wrath. Wherefore, then, do so many joys and hopes exist 
in our hearts, so many sublime inspirations in our souls'? 
Wherefore this sun, these harvests, this verdure: the air, 
perfumes, colours, and the delightful harmonies which indi- 
cate more goodness than power? Wherefore is life, in 
fact, this creation of a double self, (moi,) one of which 
being altogether material takes possession of nature, while 
the other detaches itself from nature to take possession of 
heaven; for our life on earth is double, and promises us 
two worlds. It is true that we arrive in this world without 
defence and without intelligence, but we also arrive in it 
beneath the safeguard of maternal tenderness. Then come 
the sports of early infancy, then the illusions of youth and 
love, which would suffice to our happiness, since they raise 
us up to God. We want for nothing in the voyage, and 
Providence, which foresees all its necessities, has not for- 
gotten its end. It bestows upon us the sentiment of infinity, 
which it refused to us at our entry into life. 

We must dare to say, however singular it may appear, 
that we apprehend death because we shut our eyes to the 
benefits of life. If we knew better what God has done for 
us, we should also know better what he reserves for us. 
Our double life is a heavenly gift of love and goodness — a 
magnificent, a gratuitous gift. We were not, and here is 
a power which loas from all eternity, that calls us not only 
to live and to feel, as all else lives and feels, but also to love 
him. This power which ivas, this divinity which created, 
gave us at first innocence and ignorance, and subsequently 
opened to us all the paths of imagination and of knowledge. 
By innocence we attain to the happiness of virtue, and by 
ignorance to the happiness of knowing. These two first 
conditions of life, which seem to attest our weakness, thus 
become the source of our sweetest pleasures ; ignorance is 
the attribute of childhood, it comprises in an unlimited futu- 
rity all the joys of love, and a world to contemplate. What 
a multitude of reasons for loving life ! But in proportion 
as the soul developes itself, as it feels itself free, eternal, 
infinite, more powerful than all the powers of nature ; in 
proportion as the sentiment of the sublime raises it above 



A LAW OP NATURE. 271 

worlds and suns, and in proportion as it frees itself from all 
the pains and pleasures of the flesh, does it imagine a some- 
thing beyond all that it feels and all that it sees. Oh ! then, 
what numerous reasons are there not for loving death ; 
what numerous reasons for comprehending and hoping in 
the divine Creator of all things, the Power which was, is, 
and ever shall be ; of whom, notwithstanding our weakness, 
we are permitted to have a glimpse ; and to whom, notwith- 
standing our nothingness, we are allowed to pray. 

The life of this world is a happiness, since it is the way 
which leads us to God. 

Thus in proportion as life speaks, death loses its terrors, 
and appears to our souls but as a passage from darkness 
to light, a gate opening into heaven, at the threshold of 
which we only leave a corpse ; a thing which, says Bos- 
suet, has no longer a name, a handful of ashes. 

Hence, to die is to be transformed ; it is to pass from 
one life to another, from a world where we seek for truth, 
to a world where we possess it. Death leads us to God ; 
this is a fact which destroys all its pains. 

It is, then, for want of faith that we apprehend death, 
for want of enlightenment that we curse it ; it is the 
greatest benefit of this life, since it is the end of life. But, 
do you say, I would not die. Well, be it so. Suppose 
God to give thee an eternity upon the earth. What a ter- 
rible present! Thou wouldst be condemned always to 
desire, without ever possessing ; always to seek, without 
ever finding; to have constantly a glimpse of, without con- 
templating : always to love, without ever knowing the 
God whom thou lovest. Alas ! what would life be, if it 
were restricted to this world, with desires which constantly 
extend beyond 1 All that which man seeks, loves, adores, 
has a glimpse of — where is it ? Nowhere here — below. 
Death then must give us that which life shows us. Death 
is therefore a good, the greatest good which the soul can 
conceive ; the entrance to an eternity, which would be a 
punishment upon earth, the accomplishment of the pro- 
mises which life makes to us. 

Man of little faith ! thou blasphemest death, and it is by 
its means that thou mayst possess all the treasures which 
God permits thee in this life only to have a glimpse of and 



272 DEATH NOT A PUNISHMENT. 

to desire. To understand death, is to study to live well; 
to understand life, is to be happy in death. 

Let us then repose fearlessly upon this bed whereon the 
human race reposes. If wrath do not weigh heavily upon 
our life, wherefore should it suddenly show itself at our 
death 1 The laws of nature are laws of benevolence, which 
protect us unto the end ; and it is perhaps in their last ex- 
pression that God has placed the great secret of futurity. 
Observe the dying looks of all creatures directed towards 
the place where their posterity must be renewed. The 
butterfly falls near the flower in which it has deposited its 
eggs ; the bird at the foot of the tree which sheltered its 
nest ; the goat dies among its rocks ; the bull in the mea- 
dows, stretched out upon the rich pasture ; but man dies 
with his head and eyes turned towards heaven, as a symbol 
of his immortality. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT. 

DEATH IS NOT A PUNISHMENT INFLICTED UPON THE HUMAN 

RACE. 

" Nous avons des affaires an ciel, ou plutot nous n'avons point d'affaires en ce 
monde ; c'est au ciel que sonl toutes nos affaires." 
" O mort! je te rends grace des lumieres que tu nous donnes." BossuKT. 

To the picture which w^e have just drawn, superstition op- 
poses the most alarming prospects. It exclaims on our arrival 
into the world : Have a care 1 thou art born in this hatred 
of the Lord. Have a care I this life so beautiful is but a 
condemnation to death. Lament, groan, suffer, punish 
thyself for thy birth ; dost thou not see that thy father has 
committed a fault; that he is cursed, and that the avenging 
God will inflict punishment ? Have a care ! enjoy nothing, 
accept nothing ; the pleasures which charm thy senses are 
snares ; thy most innocent passions are crimes. The ques- 
tion is not to regulate but to kill them ; to kill the work of 
God is to please God ; it is only by the despising of natural 
gifts, and by a horror of thyself, that thy safety can be 
assured ; and thou must also die by a terrible death ; for 



DEATH NOT A PUNISHMENT. 273 

death is not the deUverance from the troubles of Ufe, but it 
is the punishment of thy iniquities. Child of wrath, trem- 
ble, and prostrate thyself before death, which brings hell 
and condemnation in its train. 

Such are the doctrines with which it is pretended to 
explain the presence of evil upon the earth. If man, say 
the doctors, were not cursed, would he then be so misera- 
ble ? Mark how pain is attached to his body— error at- 
taching itself to his thoughts ; all his pleasures withered by 
disgust, all his affections torn asunder by death ; always 
punishments ! First, those which nature imposes upon 
him, next those which he brings upon himself. Calumny, 
misery, poison, if he be virtuous ; isolation, remorse, the 
scaffold, if he be criminal. Whatever be the career which 
he pursues, he must expect always punishments ! punish- 
ments for Socrates, punishments for Cartouche, for Louis 
XVI., for Robespierre ! Whether innocent or guilty, still 
always punishments ! Oh, such a life could only have 
been bestowed in wrath ; it is the punishment of a crime — 
let it then be the expiation. Thus speak the doctors, thus 
speaks Pascal himself; in order to comprehend man, this 
great genius allows himself to calumniate God. 

But, in fact, does this universe, so magnificent, seem to 
offer nothing but vengeance? In this life, so wonderfuU 
do we experience only pain ? Silence for a moment the 
theological authorities, call to your assistance the authority 
of your eyes and of your soul, and dare to ask yourself if 
it is in the midst of abundance, on carpets of verdure and 
flowers, before the great spectacle of the sun, that God 
would have cast a creature smitten with a curse ? You 
speak always of hatred and wrath, but I will speak to you 
always of benevolence and goodness. Here all obeys man ; 
I see ferocious animals, but he controls them : I see sterile 
countries, but he covers them with crops. What ! shall 
all the fruits of the earth, and all the animals which inhabit 
it, be given to a cursed being; the sun, colours, savours, 
perfumes, light, pleasure, and love, power and the throne ; 
for, in fact, man is lord here below, he commands the 
whole of nature ; this earth is his empire, and his life a 
royalty. 

To these benefits which are bestowed upon us by bene- 
volence, since thev add pleasure to life, vou oppose the 

18 



274 DEATH NOT A PUNISHMENT. 

evil which is upon the earth, and our physical and moral 
injfirmities. I perceive them as well as yourself, and in 
order to try to comprehend them, I go back to the creation 
of man. What are the elements of which he is composed? 
If I consult the Scriptures, his soul is the living breath of 
God, but his body is only a little earth borrowed from the 
globe which he inhabits. God formed him from the dust 
of the earth, so it is said in Genesis. Thus, even according 
to the book of Moses, man on coming out of the hands of 
the Creator, before committing a fault, before being cursed, 
was subject to all the evils, to all the infirmities, which are 
inseparable from matter. 

He is not then, as Bossuet says, an edifice in ruins, 
which still preserves something of the beauty and the 
grandeur of the original plan. He is at the present day, 
that which he was at the beginning of the world, a little 
earth, animated by a divine breath, a being complete in his 
perfections as well as in his imperfections ; weak and 
strong, great and miserable, yielding to temptation, or 
overcoming it according as he allows himself to be ruled 
by soul or by matter. Hence it results that man, clogged 
with earth, could never have been immortal here below ; 
the laws imposed upon matter are opposed to his terrestrial 
eternity. Another observation not less important, is that 
the fall of man would have necessitated the formation of a 
new world, in harmony with his new wants, and his new 
infirmities ; of a world fallen Hke himself. But if we refer 
to the Scriptures, nothing is changed on the globe since 
the creation. Moses describes the earth, the air, and the 
waters, peopled with the same kind of vegetables and 
animals which are still seen on it ; he does more, he gives 
to each plant the seed which must reproduce it, and he 
exhibits to us all creatures attentive to the voice of God, 
who says to them, increase and multiply. Thus, all on the 
earth was prepared for death, even before the arrival of 
man. The means of reproduction are only ordained, be- 
cause destruction is foreseen ; it is the law of nature which 
is fulfilled. There is no exception to it ; it would be the 
annihilation of life. A single gnat escaped from this law, 
would in some years suffice to overwhelm the creation. 

And with respect to the proofs of the omnipotence of 
death from the origin of things, they are impressed in the 



DEATH NOT A PUNISHMENT. 275 

very bowels of the earth ; man cannot search without dis- 
covering vestiges of a creation more ancient than that of 
himself. Thus death laid waste the globe before the 
appearance of man ; it awaited him. 

If therefore, before the appearance of man, death was a 
law of nature, the necessary condition of all existence, it 
could not be a punishment, and if it be not a punishment 
it is a benefit, since by its means alone can be accomplished 
the greatest of our thoughts. And what would death be, 
if it were not the realization of the things of which we 
have a glimpse in this life? Death is the entrance to 
another world, as life is the entrance into this. It is the 
completion of the being, a second birth, our birth to 
eternity.* 

But in order to assure ourselves that man could never 
have enjoyed a perfect state here — below, it will suffice to 
study him*^ in his relations with all the things which sur- 
round him. Here the gifts correspond to the wants, the 
benefits to the desires, the duration to the faculties ; life to 
life, and death to death ; for if man lives and dies, every 
thing else lives and dies around him, through him, and for 
him. Suppose man were immortal amidst this general de- 
struction ; it would be to invent for him punishments more 
cruel than those of hell. Not to be able to attach himself 
to any living thing, to see the whole creation pass before 
him, like an immense funeral procession, is such then the 
fate of a being destined for happiness 1 Man would have 
been less complete after his creation than after his fault, 
since in order for him to bear these lamentable scenes, 
it would have been necessary to deprive him of pity and 
love.f 

There is then no forfeiture, no expiation, but a trial ; no 
accursed creations, no wrathful and vindictive God, but a 
God beaming with the goodness which is seen in all his 
works. Death is a law of nature, like life ; pain is a law 

* It is as natural to die as to be bom ; and to a little infant, perhaps the one is 
as painful as the other. — Bacon's Essays. 

t It will be perceived from these arguments, that the author disbelieves the fall 
of man, as stated in the book of Genesis ; but there is nothing in the actual state 
of things which is incompatible with that account, for as it is evident that man's 
disobedience must have been foreseen, so circumstances would, from the begin- 
ning, have been adapted to his condition upon the earth.— TVo^e of Translator. 



276 DEATH NOT A PUNISHMENT. 

of nature, like pleasure ; and pain and death are not the 
frightful vengeance of God.* 

And, in fact, what is life ? a gift of pure generosity. 
God owed us nothing, and he has created a world to give 
it to us. He has done more ; he has raised for us a corner 
of the veil which conceals him from the rest of the crea- 
tion; he has disclosed to us the invisible world of immensity 
and eternity ; and, lighting up the path which should lead 
us to him, he has allowed us to have a glimpse of him in 
death, in order to make us rejoice in him ; in pain, to make 
us appreciate him ; in pleasure, to awaken our hopes, and 
reveal to us one of his attributes, viz. his goodness. 

Thus the study of the laws of nature teaches us that God 
has made Hfe a trial and not a punishment. The trial con- 
sists in the conflict of good and evil passions ; of soul and 
matter. Alone amidst all other beings, man is called upon 
to undergo this conflict, and likewise he alone receives the 
reward. In order that the trial might be complete, it was 
requisite that man should be free to choose between good 
and evil, and that pain should exist by the side of pleasure; 
for not only does the trial explain to us the action of evil, 
but it likewise explains the presence of good on the earth. 
Probation can understand pleasure, because it sees every 
where benevolence and goodness. Expiation understands 
only pain, because it sees every where hatred and wrath. 
Pleasure alarms it, it is considered a snare, and in its folly, 
expiation would cut it off' from the earth. Hence austerities, 
penances, the rod, fasting, celibacy ; the mortifications of 
the soul and the body; man mutilated; the purport of 
creation mistaken, and the fatal doctrine of despair and 
fear. 

All the consequences of the trial are social, moral, and 
divine ; it requires man to be complete, virtue instead of 
penitence, the rule instead of mutilation. 

All the consequences of the expiation are savage, im- 
moral, and cruel ; it requires punishments, it asks for blood. 
Man then becomes implacable and implacable without re- 
morse. Crushed beneath the weight of the divine wrath, con- 
vinced that human infirmities are the chastisement of a fault, 

* In the new edition of the Bible, published by Longman and Co., the passage 
'* Yet man is born to trouble," is rendered " For man is not bom to trouble," &c. 
Job V. — Note of Translator. 



DEATH NOT A PUNISHMENT. 277 

he imagines he can only redeem himself by sacrifices ; the 
desire to purify himself from an imaginary crime, incites 
him to actual crimes, and he sanctifies these crimes with the 
name of penitences. Hence crusades, the auto-da-fe^ the 
Massacre of St. Bartholomew, appear to him to be works 
of piety; human sacrifices are the charities of expiation. 
In order to save you from the torments of another hfe, they 
would burn you in this. The flesh cries out ; no matter, 
they will save you by killing you. "The salvation of the 
world by blood is the justice of Providence, and man is 
charged to kill man."* Do you hear these execrable 
words ? he who pronounced them was full of faith, and in 
consequence of the principle of expiation he regarded war 
as a divine institution, the Inquisition as a moral neces- 
sity, and the executioner as the corner-stone of society. 

Doctrines of despots and sophists which render men 
ferocious, and which assimilate, by their wishes and their 
actions, the most honest men with the most odious villains. 
It is, however, at such a price that expiation explains the 
presence of evil upon the earth ; it places man out of the 
laws of creation, it tears him from society, it chastises 
and mutilates him, and to the tortures which it inflicts 
upon us in this life, it adds the terrors of death, hell, and 
eternity. 

Once more, such doctrines cannot be true, for they are 
immoral and impious. 

Life is not an expiation, it is a trial. 

Death is not a punishment — it is a law of nature. 

But if man be subjected to a probation, the human race 
ought to advance towards an object: the probation is but 
the education of the soul for heaven. 

Let us then say, that the terrestrial life is the beginning 
of another life, to which we can only arrive by means of 
death, and let us terminate this chapter with this important 
definition, which comprises all the principles of this work. 
Man is a soul united for a period of probation to an intelli- 
gent animal. 

The intelligent animal shall possess the goods of the 
earth for which it is born, and the earth shall be its tomb. 

The soul which is the very man; if it has lived according 

* De Maistre. Soirees a St. Petersburg. 



278 APPLICATION OF THE LAWS OF NATURE 

to the order of things, shall enjoy the immortaUty which it 
foresees, the heaven of which it has a gUmpse, the God to 
whom it prays. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

APPLICATION OF THE LAWS OF NATURE TO THE LAWS OF MAN. 

" Nos moBurs s'adoucissent ; chaque jour la philantrophie s'avance vers de nou- 
velles conquetes; une legislation se prepare qui conciliera, autant que notre 
siecle le permet, les interets de la surete commun avec le voeu de I'huraanite." 

De Martignac. Defense de Prince Polignac, a la Chambre des Pairs. 

*' There are three tribunals which scarcely ever agree ; 
the tribunal of the laws, that of honour, and that of religion." 
These w^ords of Montesquieu accuse the order, or rather 
the disorder of modern societies, at the same lime that they 
indicate to us the cause of their disturbance, and of the 
revolutions which rend them asunder. So long as these 
three tribunals shall produce contradictory judgments, peace 
is not to be hoped for on the earth. The peace of the world 
depends upon political, moral, and religious unity, and this 
unity exists only in truth. 

But if this truth always escapes us ; the reason is, not 
because it is invisible, but simply because we refuse to turn 
our eyes towards it. The theologian looks for it in the 
doctrines of his church, the magistrate in the codes of his 
country, the philosopher in a system. The man of the 
world seeks for it nowhere, but he believes that he receives 
it from the prevailing prejudices and fashions of the age. 
Then comes scepticism, a short-sighted sophist, who, at the 
aspect of this chaos cries out that our reason is deceptive ; 
that there is no truth upon the earth ; that all is either true 
or false, according to the judgment of times, places, and 
men. Fool ! wouldst thou estimate the limits of human 
intelligence by the extent of thine own ? Open thine eyes. 
Reason is not in fault, because within these limits it does 
not appear. Truth is not fluctuating, because there is no 
truth within the scope of thy vision. That which thou per- 
ceivest ai'e our vices, our passions, our opinions, our ambi- 
tions, which we would cause to be worshipped. Truth is 
beyond their sphere. 



TO THE LAWS OF MAN. 279 

Beyond their sphere ; there only are the laws of nature 
to be sought. We invoke in our turn the judgment of 
God upon all questions which concern us. It is God him- 
self who will teach us that which we should do in order 
to be just, that which we are to believe in order to be 
happy. He will tell us what is virtue, and what is crime, 
whether we honour him by rejecting his gifts ; whether we 
obey his laws in abusing them ; whether religion should 
inspire us with indulgence, or arm us with wrath and 
cruelty ; whether it be permitted us to persecute men ; to 
deceive them ; to strip, mutilate, or kill them, either in 
the interest of an ambition, or in the interest of our con- 
science. He will tell us all these things, and in propor- 
tion as his answer shall strike upon the ear of nations, 
they will know the truth, and will hold out their hands to 
each other as brethren. 

This answer is comprised in the small number of laws of 
which we have presented the sketch ; laws of love and life, 
criteria of all truth, which are unanswerable by sophistry, 
since they verify the thoughts of man by the thoughts of 
God. 

And, truly, I do not believe there exists on the earth 
a being endowed with reason, who would dare to efface 
with a firm hand the articles of this code, under the pre- 
text of their being erroneous or false. How could we efface 
them without renouncing some portions of ourselves ; with- 
out ceasing to be men ; that is to say, free, intelligent and 
oving ? 

In fact, all the faculties of man correspond to some laws 
of nature ; so that in order to degrade the one, ihe other 
must necessarily be violated. This is the twofold labour of 
our prejudices and of despotic governments. 

We may conclude, that wherever man is degraded, there 
is a violation of the laws of nature; that is to say, a viola- 
• on of justice and of truth ; the laws of nature require 
that man should be complete. 

Of these laws five have their source in our soul, and 
radiate from man to nature ; ten have their source in the 
physical world, and radiate from nature to man. In order 
that truth should be always present, God has impressed it 
both within us and around us ; and in order that the laws 
which contain it should appear to us always pleasant, he 



280 APPLICATION OF THE LAWS OP NATURE 

has made them to partake of the seniiment of love, which 
raises us up to him. 

These fifteen laws do not form the only ones of the code 
of nature, and yet they embrace the entire moral world. 

The sentiment of the divinity is the love of God. The 
sociabiUty of the human race is the love of men. The other 
laws are for the most part but developements or modifica- 
tions of these two fundamental laws, which all our moral 
codes thus express — Love God and man. 

Apply this principle to the political and religious codes 
which divide the world, and they will strip themselves by 
degrees of all the barbarities and of all the abjection which 
dishonour them. There is a something serious in the loss 
of the least national good ; it is a physical evil which always 
entails a moral evil, and this evil is so penetrating, that we 
draw back with apprehension when we would measure its 
depth. When the Emperor of China, for instance, isolates 
his people from all others, one imagines that it is at most 
but a question of the least of their liberties, the right of tra- 
velling over the globe, a right of which the multitude would 
never profit : the prison is vast ; it is an empire, a world 
rich at the same time in all the treasures of nature, and all 
the sciences of ancient Egypt. Well, this law, to which 
you ascribe so little power, has suflficed to viHfy the 
most industrious, and perhaps the most intelligent people 
on the earth. Enter the study of a literary Chinese, proud 
of his knowledge of four thousand years; he will tell you 
that the earth is a flat and square surface, of which China 
occupies the centre ; that the sun only rises on this part of 
the world ; and that the other nations, abandoned by Hea- 
ven, are scattered here and there on the edge of an abyss, 
without intelligence and without light, as the Esquimaux 
are represented on the desolate shore of the ocean. Thus, 
the earth is square, and flat, the Celestial Empire alone 
composes the universe, and the sun only shines for the 
Chinese. Such is the fruit of the law which separates 
them from the human race. 

And we must not think that this abjection reacts only 
upon their intelligence ; it reacts upon their morality, it 
precipitates them into the ignorance of the Creator, the 
greatest evil which exists upon earth. A people who know 
nothing of the world it inhabits, nothing of the surround- 



TO THE LAWS OF MAN. 281 

ing nations, cannot form a just idea either of the general 
laws of nature, nor of the benefits of Providence, nor of the 
glory of God. By cutting itself off from the human race, it 
has cut itself off from truth. 

We may judge from this example of the influence which 
the most simple application of the laws of nature would 
exert upon the civilization and the happiness of the world. 
Would legislators but deign to take them for a guide, and 
all the crimes which have become established as principles, 
all the idolatry which has been raised into a religion, infan- 
ticide, concubinage, polygamy, mutilations, slavery, these 
lepers of the East; castes, privileges, vassalage, the celi- 
bacy of priests, monastic reclusions, religious suicides, these 
vices and degradations of civilized Europe ; the penalty of 
death, the fratricide which no law, no human convention 
can legalize; and lastly, war, the greatest of wrongs, and 
the only one which with the penalty of death still exists all 
over the world, would disappear. All these juridical crimes, 
all these glorious or legislative murders, would vanish be- 
fore the law of nature, like the clouds of darkness before 
the sun. Already, by instinctively approximating ourselves 
to this divine law, we have effaced from our codes the 
double bondage of the earth and of man. Our tribunals 
have lost the power of being cruel, and our kings the privi- 
lege of being unjust. Civil liberty, the liberty of worship, 
liberty of thought, form, together with equality of rights, 
and equality in the eye of the law, a legislation by which 
the dignity of man is at last respected, and this first step 
in the path of universal justice has commenced the deliver- 
ance of all nations ; the example is now given, the rights 
are conquered, and Europe is contemplating us. 

If I were an absolute king, and my eyes were directed 
towards France, I should see her without apprehension 
resuscitate the formidable armies of Napoleon ; but if I 
saw her legislators opening every where schools, founding 
colonies, protecting and enlightening the masses, extending 
knowledge, increasing the general welfare, giving to each 
citizen the power of raising himself to the rank to which 
his intelligence and his virtue would entitle him ; in a word, 
generously advancing in the paths of justice and liberty — 
oh ! it is then that I should tremble for the despotic 
thrones of Europe 1 France would then be a nation for- 



282 OF AMERICA AND OF POLAND. 

midable even in her adversity : she would have laid aside 
her arms ; she would no longer fight ; but in proportion as 
she acquired strength, she would feel herself worthy of 
another glory, and she would be as eager to deliver the 
world as she formerly was to conquer it. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

CONTINUATION OF THE SAME SUBJECT. 
OP AMERICA AND OF POLAND. 

" L'Europe devrait etre citee au ban de la Pologne pour les injustices toujours 
croissantes dout ce pays a ete victime." 

Mad. de Stael. Elle le sara aujtigement de Dieu. 

"Les forces manquent amon zele ; mais le courage et I'esperance ne manquent 
pas a mon cceur." De Martignac. ^ 

" II n'y a point de droit centre le droit." Bossuet. 

There was a time when America, which we now see 
so fair, so prosperous and growing in liberty, was a vassal. 
English officers commanded in her ports, English govern- 
ors ruled in her cities, and English parliaments imposed 
laws. upon her. But a day at length arrived, when, wearied 
of this vassalage, the people flew to arms, and, appealing 
to mankind in testimony of her just cause, demanded of 
them whether it was right that men of all nations, thrown 
by the wind of adversity on desert shores where they had 
created for themselves a country, should be subject to the 
chains of Europe, and whether the laws of nature ordained 
that America should pay taxes to the King of Great Britain. 
It was on the 4th of July, 1776, that this solemn declara- 
tion was addressed to the world : *' We hold these truths 
to be self-evident: — that all men are created equal; that 
they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable 
rights ; that amongst these are life, liberty, and the pursuit 
of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments 
are instituted among men, deriving their first powers from 
the consent of the governed ; that whenever any form of 
government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the 
right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute 
new government, laying its foundation on such principles, 



OF AMERICA AND OF POLAND. 288 

and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall 
seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. 
Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long 
established should not be changed for light and transient 
causes. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, 
pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to 
reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is 
their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide 
new guards for their future security. Such has been the 
patient sufferance of these colonies, and such is now the, 
necessity, which constrains them to alter their former 
systems of government." 

Thus, men born in ancient Europe, where they were but 
yesterday, all at once call, to mind — at the sight of a virgin 
land, of a world issuing from the hands of its Creator, — the 
inalienable rights of humanity ; the aspect of nature restores 
them to nature, and from the depth of their deserts they 
raise a cry of liberty which resounds even amongst the 
nations of the other hemisphere. 

This appeal to the conscience of Europe, followed by a 
statement of the tyrannical acts and injuries inflicted by 
the King of Great Britain on the American people, thus 
concludes : 

" We, therefore, the representatives of the United States 
of America, in general congress assembled, appealing to 
the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our 
intentions, do, in the name, and of the authority, of the 
good people of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, 
that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, 
FREE AND INDEPENDENT States I — that they arc absolved 
from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all politi- 
cal connexion between them and the State of Great Britain 
is, and ought to be, totally dissolved; and that as free and 
independent States, they have full power to levy war, 
conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, 
and do all other acts and things, which independent 
States may, of right, do. And, for the support of this 
Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of 
Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other, our 
lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honour." 

This manifesto we call sublime, because it is based on 
the rights of humanity. God has declared to us, by the first 



i 



284 OF AMERICA AND OP POLAND. 

laws of our being, that man over man has no other power 
but love. Thus no man shall be the property of another 
man, no people the property of another people. This, the 
inalienable, the imprescriptible right, of man, and of nations, 
this is liberty. 

Such is the lavv^ of nature ; let us now see the law of men. 
To the destiny of America let us oppose that of Poland. 
She too was a nation smitten by vassalage ; she invoked 
the same principles, she displayed the same virtue : " Haste 
to our succour!" (it was thus she appealed to Europe,) 
'* haste to our aid ! time presses, the barbarians are at our 
gates, and we die for the liberty of the world !" But Europe 
was deaf to her cries, and, on the 7th of September, whilst 
a minister of France* was uttering these atrocious words, 
** All is tranquil in Warsaw;" the noble nation had indeed 
found repose ; she slept, buried under the ruins of her ram- 
parts ! dying, as she had said, for the liberty of the world ! 

History will record the cowardice, the baseness, not of 
the nations, but of the kings, of Europe ; for every nation, 
unhappy Poland, would have flown to thy succour! All 
the nations cried out, and all the kings kept silence ! His- 
tory will tell how the disarmed Poles were transported to 
the snows of Siberia ! how the whole country was put 
beyond the pale of law ! how those who had flown for 
refuge to the temple, were butchered at the very altars ! 
She will tell that all these things passed in the nineteenth 
century, under the law of the gospel and in the sight of 
mankind ! As for us, we only record a fact, trifling without 
doubt, after such wholesale scenes of robbery and murder, 
but whose date should not be forgotten. 

Three months after the murder of Poland, the following 
announcement appeared in the Russian, Prussian, German, 
and French Journals : 

" In virtue of the Imperial Ukase of the 2d of January, 
1831, have been confiscated for the benefit of the emperor,t 
the government of Podolia, 10,852 souls \ames] belonging 
to the Prince Adam Czartorysky; 185 souls to Elizabeth 
Tyrawski, 243 souls to Isokore Sachnowski, all the fortune 
of Erasmus de Dobrowski, and 592 souls of the Count 

* General Sebastiani. 

t The Emperor Nicholas, whom it has become the fashion with many modern 
professors of liberty and equal rights, to extol and to admire. 



OF WAR. 285 

Thaddeus Ortowski, &c. &c. &c. Wilna, 31st October 
1831."* 

One might believe that he was reading the barbarous le- 
gends of the 12th century. Not being able to sell men, as 
Csesar did, the conquerors confiscate souls like Satan. The 
punishments of servitude may be well compared with those 
of hell. The publicity given to such acts is a benefit to 
humanity. The more public the crime is made, the louder 
and more powerful will be the infamy attending it. Tyrants 
must hear the outcries of mankind in order to know that 
they stand alone, and that the eyes of the civilized world 
are upon them. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

OF WAR ACCORDING TO THE LAW OF NATURE. 

" Qu'est ce que la guerre ? un metier de barbares, ou tout I'art consiste a etre 
le plus fort sur un point donne.' 

Napoleon, the eve of the battle of Moskow. 

" Et lorsque la civilisation sera arrivee a amener dans loute I'Europe I'abandon 
des vieux usages de la barbarie, la guerre ne sera plus possible, car il n'y aura 
plus de forces materielles qui puissent lutter contre les forces morales." 

Odillon Barrot. 

" Ne redoutez pas, Messieurs, de suivre ce veritable progres de I'esprit huraain, 
qui confiera, non pas a des armees commandees par des capilaines plus ou moins 
habiles, non pas a la force brutale, mais aux nobles combats de I'esprit, aux luttes 
de I'intelligence, la destinee et la direction des societes." 

Berryer, Discours d la Chamhre des Deputis. 

" II y'a deux droits que les siecles ont tour a tour vu pr^valoir sur la terre : le 
droit de force et de conquete, droit feroce et barbare, que je n'invoquerai jamais, 
droit brutal contre lequel toute civilisation a ete fondee et se developpe : il y en a 
un autre non moins dominateur, non moins infaillible, mais plus moral et plus 
divin : c'est celui que le monde reconnoitroit a son insu, c'est celui qui vous fera 
triompher sans combat et sans obstacle, c'est le droit de civilisation." 

Lamartine, Discours a la Chambre. 

The most violent advocate of sacerdotal despotism, a 
man who in his disdain for humanity has not feared to 
descend to be the apologist of the Inquisition and of the 
executioner, M. de Maistre, has said, " History proves that 
war is the habitual state of the human race ; that is to say, 

* In reading these sad details one is no longer astonished at the downfall of 
unhappy Poland. Half of the people had nothing to defend. But what shall we 
say of the conqueror? He could have restored liberty, but he loved better to 
confiscate souls. 



286 OF WAR. 

that human blood should flow without interruption on the 
earth." In order to corroborate these horrid words, the 
author traces out the picture of the wars which have deso- 
lated the earth from the fall of Rome to the present day. 
He seizes the extremes of this bloody chain, which extends 
over centuries, and of which each link is a battle; then, 
with a voice which he would render prophetic, he dares to 
exclaim to the world — " Thus blood must always flow ; it 
is the law of our being, man must shed blood ; because he 
can only be purified by blood." In his theological insanity, 
M. de Maistre declares to us that all these massacres are 
from God ; his genius discovers in them a punishment 
which tends to a regeneration, as if the only means of 
rendering us better were to perpetuate our misdeeds. 

Kill, then, kill without fear and without remorse ; for 
you kill in order that you should be pardoned: war is 
redemption ! 

Might it not be said that this man was desirous of sur- 
passing in a few lines the most furious doctrines of our age ? 
To deny God was nothing, but to make him the representa- 
tive of the executioner, this was great. To deny crime and 
virtue, to say that all our actions are of no effect, this 
again was nothing; but to call upon man to murder, to 
inspire him with an enthusiasm for carnage, by causing 
war to arise from the will of God, this is what is great, 
moral, and catholic. Observe, it is no longer a question to 
justify crime by impiety, but to sanctify it by religion. Oh ! 
we argue admirably, our eloquence is splendid, our genius 
is infallible. Is it not written in the Bible that God is the 
God of armies? What does this mean? War is then 
divine. Is it not evident that animals devour each other? 
What does this mean but that war is the law of nature? 
" Thus man shall exterminate man continually and un- 
ceasingly ; he may strike innocently, because God ordains 
it ; because by striking he redeems himself, because there 
is a curse, and because this malediction must be fulfilled 
even unto death."* 

Let us leave the man possessed by a demon to insult at 
the same time both God and men, and let us try to emerge 
from this chaos of theological impiety, which is founded 
upon a complete ignorance of the laws of nature, and which 

* De Maistre — Soirees de St. Petersburg, 



OP WAR. 287 

is developed in the interest of the doctrine of expiation ; the 
most fatal of errors, since it perverts the character of the 
Divinity. 

Among the writers who have treated of war, some have 
denied its rights, others have h'mited it to defence. The 
ancient school considered conquerors only as ravagers of 
the earth ; the modern school regards war as the most 
powerful means of civilization. If we wish for truth, let us 
neither ask the philosophers nor history. Grotius and 
Bacon knew less about the matter than nature ; and as to 
history, what folly it would be to allow it the weight of an 
authority ! Facts can testify to what it was, but how 
can they constantly represent that which it ought to be, 
without falsifying the perfectibility of the human race? 

This perfectibility is itself a fact, and a moral fact, which 
overrules all histories. Look at war in the different phases 
of our civilization. 

At first it is only a question of prey : all misery is cruel, 
and all ignorance blind : one kills one's enemy in order to 
strip him, or to devour him : such is the savage state. 

From the savage state to the state of barbarity, there is 
but a step, and nevertheless war tends already to ennoble 
itself It is less a question of prey than of revenge. The 
whole world arms in order to punish the ravisher of Helen ; 
it talks of redressing a wrong, of avenging an outrage; — 
thus there is progress. 

Next come the wars of conquest and ambition. Alex- 
ander lays waste Asia, in order to cause his name to be 
pronounced in the public places at Athens. Pillage and 
revenge are superseded by glory. The hero only wishes 
for admiration ; it is a great soul which goes astray : but 
the progress is immense, and wars for renown accelerate 
the civiHzation of the world. These wars of ambition are 
perpetuated up to modern times. Then commences wars 
of religion : a new thought makes its way to the heart of all 
nations. They no longer speak of the glory of man, but of 
the glory of God. The vain treasures of the earth give 
place to the treasures of eternity : they fight for the salva- 
tion of souls, to snatch their enemies from hell, and to open 
for them the gates of heaven ! A sublime error, cast by 
Christianity into the midst of the barbarous crowd — the 
first appearance of the sentiment of the great and the 



288 OF WAR. 

infinite among the people and among armies. By it Europe 
becomes dematerialized. It obeys simultaneously {en masse) 
an idea which it believes to be moral. Piercing through 
the darkness which surrounds it, it advances to death in 
order to cause truth to triumph ; and whilst men's minds 
are dreaming of martyrdom, St. Louis establishes this 
generous though incomplete principle, viz. that war among 
Christians is a fratricide. The astonished world hears this 
sentiment without believing it ; but European wars are 
suspended, and the barbarity of the West, impressed with 
this new idea, directs its attacks during several ages against 
the barbarity of the East. 

Lastly, political wars, w^ars of deliverance, and of liberty, 
succeed to religious wars. This is the period at which we 
are now arrived, and which will terminate in wars of 
defence, which will be the only ones possible from the time 
that Europe, having shaken off its chains, shall have re- 
constituted its populations according to the precepts of the 
Gospel, and the principles of liberty. 

But it is not sufficient to characterize war according to 
the prevailing passion of each age; it must also be charac- 
terized according to the men who represent these passions. 
Let us pass from Achilles to Alexander, from Cassar to 
Bonaparte. These four men unite by the glory of arms 
ancient to modern times ; they are each the expression of 
their epoch, and they verify its progress. Human sacri- 
fices on the tomb of Patroclus. Two thousand Syrians 
crucified on the sea-shore in the calmness of victory. Entire 
populations put to the sword, or sold by auction in the pub- 
lic squares, like a drove of beasts. Such were the scenes 
presented to mankind by Achilles, Alexander, and Csesar. 
Let us now follow Bonaparte from Italy to Vienna, from 
Berlin to Moscow. What a change amidst this glorious 
butchery ! one laments for a friend, but one no longer kills 
men on his tomb ; they fight, but they no longer assassinate 
defenceless warriors ; they take a town, but they no longer 
sell the inhabitants for slaves. And what, then, prevented 
Bonaparte, when master of the world, from crowning him- 
self with the laurels of Achilles, of Alexander, and of Caesar? 
The voice of the human race. 

The war which Henry IV. wishes to undertake, in order 
to establish the universal peace of Europe, is perhaps the 



OF WAR. 289 

noblest sentiment which ever expanded the heart of a king, 
and it is likewise the finest page of universal history. Doubt- 
less the great king deceived himself, but though he deceived 
himself, he yet deserved the gratitude of the civilized world. 
No one at that period could teach him, that this noble idea, 
in order to succeed, ought not to emanate from the king, 
but from the people. Peace is not the spark which springs 
from the shock of arms, it is the torch which lights itself at 
the hearth of civilization. 

Such will be the fate of war upon the earth, and we ask 
but one thing, viz. that the truth of the future be estimated 
by the truth of the past. War is but a transitory state of 
populations; in proportion as we advance, its pretexts 
change, and its justifications become moralized. But to 
this road to perfectibility there is no other end than peace, 
since there is only peace which is human and reasonable. 

To such powerful facts, the terrible law of nature will 
certainly be opposed; the law of reproduction by destruction; 
a law which condemns us to death on the very day which 
it calls us into life. In fact, war is in us, and around us, — 
all animals receive at birth arms wherewith to fight, — all 
arrive upon the earth as upon a battle-field, which they 
must moisten with their blood. And in this frightful scuffle, 
man appears with thunder, calling his intelligence to the 
assistance of his ferocity, turning against himself all the 
benefits of nature, and glorifying himself by the slaughter of 
his fellows. 

Would one not say, that to kill was to fulfil the law ? 

Yes, if man were only a wild beast, the blood of man 
would flow eternally ; such is truly the law for wild beasts, 
and the law must be fulfilled. But who, then, arrests its 
fulfilment in man ? Why do not all men rush like tigers 
on their prey 1 Whence this horror of blood, these warn- 
ings of conscience, these maledictions against the fury of 
conquest? Wherefore do pity and humanity exist? It is 
because the law of nature for man is a law of love, and not 
a law of destruction. Alone upon the earth, the animal is 
ordained to kill, and in man there is only the animal which 
kills. In proportion as our divine faculties become de- 
veloped, the arms fall from our hands; we begin by doubt- 
ing of our right to kill our fellow-creatures, and we end by 
lamenting our blindness. Ah ! if we were born for these 

19 



290 LAWS OF CRETE, SPARTA, ATHENS, AND ROME. 

massacres, God would not have placed in our bosoms con- 
science, which attaches only remorse to their perpetration, 
the moral sentiment which condemns them, and the reason 
which curses them. He would not have vivified the human 
soul with those sentiments of the sublime and the infinite, 
which raise it up to heaven, if he had wished an earth for 
the conflicts of tigers and the work of the executioner. 

All the faculties which distinguish us from the brute have 
a horror of bloodshed, and all these faculties tend to the 
love of God and of men. 

This is our law, the law which will on one day annihilate 
war upon the earth. It is human, it is divine ; it is derived 
both from heaven and earth, like the creature to whom it 
has been given. 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

APPRECIATION OF THE LAWS OF CRETE, SPARTA, ATHENS, AND 
ROME, BY THE LAWS OF NATURE. 

" Les nations Grecque et Romaine ont disparu du monde a cause de ce qu'il y 
avail de barbare c'est a dire d'injuste dans leurs institutions." 

Madame de Stael. Considdrations sur la Rivolution Frangaise. 

Empires, like men, are born and cease to exist. Their 
elevation in proportion as they approach to truth, their de- 
cline in proportion as they separate themselves from it, is 
an immense fact which strikes all eyes, and of which 
humanity will one day reap the fruits. 

Hence it results that the superiority of a civilized over a 
barbarous people is entirely moral. Numbers and strength 
give way before the action of a lofty sentiment, or of a vir- 
tuous thought. 

Twice in the annals of the world, the love of a little cor- 
ner of the globe which received the name of country has be- 
stowed empire upon a handful of men. Had they been just, 
they would have preserved this empire ; there is no instance 
of a nation's dying while in the practice of heroism and 
virtue. 

All have succumbed beneath the weight of superstitions, 
of ambitions, of corruption, of ignorance, and of inhumanity. 



LAWS OF CRETE, SPARTA, ATHENS, AND ROME. 291 

All have died from having forgotten the dignity of man, and 
violated the laws of nature. 

It v^^ould be an act of high justice to place Sparta, 
Athens, and Rome, the constant objects of our admiration 
in youth, in the presence of the laws of nature, and to judge 
them by these laws. 

With what surprise should we not see. the greatest 
geniuses of antiquity mutilate man, in order to make him 
bend to their conceptions; make him great as God has 
made animals free and powerful, by limiting them to a 
single instinct; and seek in an isolated law of nature (the 
love of country) the spring of a moral superiority which 
was able to regenerate a people, and to govern the rest of 
the world to whom this law remained unknown ; for in this 
law was concentrated the true spirit of the legislators of 
Greece. Man appeared to them a being too active and too 
great; and not being able to imagine a means of entirely 
subjecting him, they divided him and made him incomplete. 
They cut off one half, and said to the other half. Advance, 
fight, destroy ; be the strongest, and thou wilt be free. 

The child trained up to war, receiving from education 
but two ideas — the love of his native town, and the con- 
tempt of all other civilizations, — the man living free only 
on condition of his renouncing the exercise of his own 
will ; repelling as a weakness all the arts, all the sciences, 
which might have enlightened and polished him — seeing 
on the rest of the earth nothing but enemies, barbarians, 
and countries to be conquered, or slaves to be enchained ; 
separating himself, in fact, from all other nations by pride, 
and from the human race by ignorance ; such was the 
humanity of ancient times : such was the law imposed 
upon the heroic nations of Greece. 

To limit a people to one sole idea, to allow it only 
one passion, and to unloose this passion against the world ; 
such was the essence of a republican governnrient as it ex- 
isted at Crete, Sparta, Athens, and Rome, and this govern- 
ment was based upon the same principle as is a despotic 
government. 

. In a republican government the people is the despot, 
and its subjects are all the nations which surround it. lis 
caprices and its desires turn the world upside down ; others 
must either serve it, or die. 



292 LAWS OF CRETE, SPARTA, ATHENS, AND ROME. 

Thus, the greatest effort of ancient legislation was to 
transfer despotism from the master to the subject ; to 
imbue a nation with the will of a tyrant. They gave to 
this thing the name of liberty, and the violation of all the 
laws of nature was termed virtue. 

And, let it not be supposed that I would deny the glo- 
rious influences of those institutions. Their action was 
frequently heroic. We have seen emanate from them 
some sublime characters, and instances of noble devoted- 
ness : they gave universal dominion to a handful of men, 
but they did nothing for the happiness of Greece ; they did 
little for the advancement of humanity. 

It has been said that these institutions have become im- 
possible at the present day because we are wanting in 
virtue. It would have been more true to say that they 
could not be reproduced because they violate three of the 
great laws of nature which are now recognised by all 
civilized nations. The sentiment of the Divinity, that is 
to say, the knowledge and the love of one only God ; the 
sentiment of sociability, that is to say, the unity of the 
human species ; and lastly, perfectibility, which does not 
allow the human race to retrograde towards the past. All 
the virtues of Sparta, Rome, and Athens, were hostile to 
humanity ; we could not return to them without degrading 
ourselves. What European people could cooly hunt down 
the Helots as the law of Sparta decreed ? What father 
would consent to sell his son three times over, or to kill 
him, as was permitted by the Roman law? What hero 
could make war for the sake of pillage and carnage, and on 
the smoking ruins of seventy cities would dare to sell by 
auction a hundred and fifty thousand citizens, in order to 
distribute the money to his army, as Paulus Emilius did in 
Epirus? which procured him the honours of a triumph, 
together with the admiration of the Roman people, and 
almost that of posterity. 

The reign of Rome was that of a robber : it aggrandized 
itself by war and pillage, and therefore it fell by its riches 
and by war. 

Let us no longer say that these institutions are become 
impossible because we are wanting in virtue ; let us rather 
say, that they are become impossible because humanity and 
truth are beginning to prevail upon the earth. 



HOPES OP THE FUTURE. 293 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 



HOPES OF THE FUTURE, 



" Je n'ai vu dans la liberte que tous les hommes reclament, que le devellop- 
pement harraonique de leurs facultes," Bonstetten, Etude de V Homme. 

"Le gout et I'admiration du stationaire viennent des jugemens faux que Ton 
porte sur la verite des fails, et sur la nature de Thomme: sur la verite des faits, 
parcequ'on suppose que les anciens moeurs etaient plus pures que les moeurs rao- 
dernes; complete erreur: sur la nature de rhomme, parcequ'on ne vent pas voir 
que I'esprit humain est perfectible." Chateaubriand. 

This cursory examination of human laws, as confronted 
with the laws of nature, has shown us the world shaking 
off its chains, and advancing with rapid strides towards 
truth. In order to complete this picture, let us cast our 
eyes upon the moral state of the world, not within the 
narrow limits of the kingdoms into which the ground is 
partitioned off, but in the large divisions established by the 
different forms of belief which constitute various classes of 
their populations. The luminous point lies entirely in the 
progress of the Gospel, because the Gospel in its primitive 
purity is itself but the expression of the laws of nature. 
It is sufficient to appreciate this light in order to know the 
future destiny of the human race. 

At the present day more than one-third of the inha- 
bitants of the globe have received the law of Christ, and 
live beneath the influence of this law which gives life to 
nations. Europe is the centre of this new civilization, of 
which the starting-point is France and England. There 
arise and are developed the generous ideas of humanity and 
of liberty, of which the circle is perpetually enlarging 
itself, and which are being diffused from nation to nation 
throughout Europe ; and from Europe throughout the 
world. 

To this sublime junction of intellects, the United States 
of America come with all the ardour of youth, to join them- 
selves to old Europe. More fortunate than ourselves, they 
have had no middle ages. England, by trying to govern 
them, inspired them with the desire of independence. They 
learned from their masters to cherish liberty, and the first 



294 HOPES OF THE FUTURE. 

news of their success was a great example to the nations of 
the old world. 

Thus, young America was free at her birth. No habits 
of vassalage, no regrets for the past, no gothic prejudices, 
disturbed her .victory : she had not to struggle against 
those theocracies which keep the people in the abjection of 
misery and of ignorance ; she did not see her soil de- 
filed by the superstitions of Brahmins or the fury of prose- 
lytism. All the sects which are there established possess 
the spirit of the Gospel. Oh ! spectacle never before 
viewed by mortal eyes ! she is born with liberty, tolerance, 
and intelligence, — she escapes at the same time from priests 
and from barbarism! Her most ancient recollections are 
those of her glory, and of her deliverance, and without 
having passed through the darkness of childhood, she 
arrives at the age of truth, rich in experience and in the 
reason of the human race. 

Such is the America of the United States : a new world 
which is born to new ideas. Such will be the America of 
the south after its triumph, for the nation must triumph 
where women fight for the cause of independence, and die 
by the side of their husbands and brothers. The nation 
must triumph, where every evening an officer asks, in the 
presence of the army, " Are the women of Cochabamba 
present?" And where another officer answers, "Glory be 
to God, they all died for their country on the field of 
honour."* 

Thus, a third of the inhabitants of the old world, and 
the whole of the new world, two hundred and seventy mil- 
lions of men, form at the present day the army of civiliza- 
tion ; and in the midst of this army, France and England 
arise like two constellations, of which the reflection is cast 
over the whole world. 

But, another nation, born to conquer, and to regenerate, 
attracts our attention. When the people of the north, 
awakened by the Spirit of God, rushed like the waves of 
the ocean upon falling Rome, they were barbarous — a blind 
instrument of Providence. They came to do two things — 
to carry death to ancient nations, and to receive the light 
of the Gospel, in order to transmit it to modern nations. 
Their mission was at the same time a mission of annihila- 
tion and of regeneration. They showed themselves to this 

* This was in 1818. 



HOPES OF THE FUTURE. 295 

part of the world in order to temper it again with iron, to 
pour out upon it their vigorous children, who destroy and 
renew populations. But this was only half the work which 
Providence imposed upon them ; the time is now arrived 
when they have to show themselves to the other part of the 
world ; to overrun the east as they overran the west, since 
it is true that a fatal and providential law always calls them 
towards dying nations. They will not arrive there this 
time as a barbarous, but as a Christian people. God has 
placed them in regions of ice and of sterility, at the gates 
of Asia and of Europe, as if to invite them to descend 
successively on both sides of the earth. Subjected to 
fatality, the followers of Mahomet await them, mournfully 
sealed in their harems, in those palaces where they have 
been encamped during three centuries, and through which 
they ought merely to have passed. Thus, at an interval of 
two thousand years, the children of the north find them- 
selves commissioned to diffuse over the east the civilized 
doctrines which they had received in the west, and those 
who, at the decline of Rome, were conquerors and regene- 
rated, will be, at the fall of Constantinople, saviours and 
regenerators. 

Civilization extends itself on every side : it unites all 
Europe into a single people, and, like a benevolent divinity, 
it bends its course towards Asia, and advances, the Gospel 
in hand, into those rich countries, where nature is so 
powerful, the human race so beautiful, and where man is 
so degenerate. 

Before the Gospel was known, there was but little hope 
for humanity ; subsequent to the Gospel, all may be re- 
duced to figures. Reckon up the followers of each religion. 
To Confucius, the magi, and the w^orship of idols, a hun- 
dred and forty-seven millions ; to Boudah and his five 
apostles, a hundred and seventy millions ; to Brahma, 
sixty millions; to Mahomet, ninety-six millions. Amidst 
this census of men, Jesus Christ presents himself with 
two hundred and seventy millions of disciples, whatever be 
their communion — Greek, Lutheran, Calvinist, or Catholic; 
for the Gospel, which is the basis of all, has but one aim, 
the deliverance of nations — but one futurity, the triumph of 
truth and humanity. 

And, let it not be said, that in order to increase our 



296 HOPES OF THE FUTURE. 

Strength, I join the faith of the church with that of heresy 
— the elect people with the cursed. This language would 
only reveal human passions. Election and malediction are 
not from God, but from man. A wretched fakir measures 
the munificence of the Creator by the narrow bounds of his 
earthly ambition ; he imagines that the All-powerful has 
nothing to do beyond this limit ; he curses the work, and 
thinks to exalt the workman ; but whilst the madman 
makes to himself a god for his little congregation, the 
Christian extends his regards over the whole world, and is 
reassured by seeing that all is prepared for the advantage 
of the human race. 

Thanks be to God, the ideas of a chosen people, of a 
condemned people, are dying away in Europe. The autho- 
rity of the consistory {infra lapsaire) no longer makes a 
religion, and the good pleasure of individuals no longer 
constitutes politics. A universal reason mixes itself up 
with eve^y thing. The vulgar expression, that the voice of 
the people is the voice of God, has been understood by the 
wise. They have felt that, in order to cause truth to arise, 
it is not so much kings who must be implored, as nations 
which must be instructed. Truth descends with difficulty 
from kings to the people, but its triumph is certain when it 
ascends from the people to kings. Observe what changes 
have been brought about in consequeuce of two or three 
evangelical principles having fallen by chance among the 
crowd. The French charter, the emancipation of Ireland, 
the liberty of America, the deliverance of Greece, were 
in the opinion of the people before being thought of by 
princes. Our masters did nothing so long as they heard 
only groans, but they became uneasy when vigorous ideas 
emanated from the crowd. Enlighten the people, and their 
passions will always be great, and in the interests of huma- 
nity I Let kings alone, and their ambitious or religious 
passions will almost always be in the interest of a man. 
Louis XIV. caused the Albigenses to be killed in order to 
save his soul. The nation, taken collectively, would have 
refused to sanction this crime. 

It is then to public conscience, enlightened by the 
Gospel and by the laws of nature, that we must appeal. 
Upon it depends the prosperity of the human race, and the 



STUDY OP GOD IN THE GOSPEL. 297 

forthcoming age will see arise from it the civilization of 
India, and of Africa, the deliverance of the East, the aboli- 
tion of castes, the marriage of priests, the emancipation of 
nations, and the liberty of the universe. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

STUDY OF GOD IN THE GOSPEL. 

" On ne rendra desormais quelque jeunesse a la race humaine, qu'en retoumant 
a la religion par la philosophic, et au sentiment par la raison." 

Madame de Stael — De VAllemagne. 

I AM treating of religion in presence of its three greatest 
enemies, incredulity, indifference, and fanaticism, having 
for myself no aid but reason, and no other object than 
the truth. A difficult task, and one which I would fain 
fulfil without wounding the consciences of any. For this 
reason I hasten to declare, that it is not my aim here 
either to alter modes of worship, or to overthrow dogmas 
of belief Above the particular and varying creeds of every 
sect, there reigns an immutable religion, which embraces 
them all, as the heavens embrace the universe. Our aim 
is to borrow from this religion, which is summed up in 
the gospel, the eternal principles, which agree with all reli- 
gions ; to introduce them imperceptibly through the influence 
of women, and to proceed, thus gently, to the triumph of 
Christianity and to the civilization of the world. 

I war only with the dogmas which impair our moral 
powers, with the errors which degrade us. For this end I 
adopt all Christian communions. Whether Romanists, Lu- 
therans, Calvinists, Anabaptists, no matter; children of the 
same God, we cannot be enemies. Retain your name, your 
modes of w^orship, your prayers ; retain all that belongs to 
faith, all that does not wound the morals and dignity of 
man; but at the same time, receive into your souls the 
seeds of true wisdom, of that love of God and of men, 
which makes one family of all nations, one religion of all 
religions. May wisdom then go forth from the darkness 
of superstition, as Moses did from the mount, with the 
tables of the Law in his hand. 

This labour, which I have undertaken with an ardour, 



298 STUDY OF GOD IN THE GOSPEL. 

with an entire faith, is destined, above all, for the women 
of Europe and of the two Americas ; since, over the whole 
earth, it is only where the gospel reigns, that true civiliza- 
tion is to be found. And yet it must be such as can be 
read even by the disciples of Mahomet, without offending 
their belief. An Arabian woman, a Persian, or a Turk, 
adopting its principles, may believe herself a Mahometan, 
whilst her heart has already become Christian. Ablutions, 
fasts, prayers in the mosque, abstinence from wine, all the 
objects of her faith, all the mysteries of her worship, may 
yet subsist ; but, already initiated in the laws of nature, she 
ceases to comprehend polygamy, she is astonished at sla- 
very, and in these two new sentiments commences the 
regeneration of the East. Fanaticism resists the steel ; the 
progress of thought destroys it. 

How to lay down principles which suit all men, and 
which, without changing any thing in their external wor- 
ship, shall, by little and little, destroy its immoralities, such 
is the problem to be resolved. The apostles of these prin- 
ciples will be henceforward the true apostles of Christianity. 
Jesus knows that new truths penetrate with difficulty into 
the spirit of man ; there is so much of error lodged there. 
But it is not to the spirit, it is to the heart, that the gospel 
addresses its doctrines. It instructs us in the truth only by 
awakening within our bosoms sentiments always and every 
where the same, always and every where repressed, always 
and every where alive. 

If it be asked why I address this book to mothers, 
this is my reply: the little of true piety which yet exists 
on earth we owe to women much more than to theo- 
logians. Our religion is that of our mother. The in- 
struction of priests, cold, dogmatical, appalling, only en- 
graves itself on our memory ; but Jesus Christ teaches us 
that religion must be engraved in the heart. The passions 
will find it there, in its place, with the prayer of our 
infancy, that prayer learned word by word, repeated every 
evening, repeated every morning ; that prayer, which makes 
the innate sense of the infinite dawn in our souls, the very 
day in which our mother, joining, for the first time, our 
little hands, has taught us to pronounce the name of God. 
Sweet instruction of the cradle, prayer of angels, which 



STUDY OP GOD IN THE GOSPEL. 299 

always comes back to us in the midst of our joys, or of our 
griefs, as an echo of the maternal voice. 

If these observations be true, if they speak to all hearts, 
I have no need to justify this book. The more elevated 
the religion of our mother, the more vivid and profound will 
be its impression on our hearts. Let the thought of God 
then descend upon us at the voice of our mother ; let this 
thought penetrate us ; let its light environ us ; let it be the 
joy of our infancy, the science of our heart, the life of our 
soul, and the prop of that new life, at the fatal hour when 
the last rays of our innocence tremble and disappear under 
the fire of the passions. 

O woman ! here is a study without fatigue, and without 
labour; a study of contemplation and of love. It is God 
himself who has spoken it, who still speaks it, to your souls, 
in the double book of the gospel and of nature* 



300 RECAPITULATION. 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

RECAPITULATION. 

"Maintenant leur sort est dans vos mains ; dites un motils vivront; dites un 
mot et ils mourront." Saint Vincent de Paul. 

I HAVE arrived at the termination of niy work, and this 
moment, so much wished for, appears to me, in proportion 
as it approaches, clouded by fears and doubts, which are 
but too well justified by my insufficiency. I feel that 
error must have introduced itself among these ephemeral 
pages, and this idea would be to me the worst punishment, 
if I could not testify to myself that in seeking for truth, I 
have sought it from God. Putting aside all human autho- 
rities, I have opened the great book of nature. It seemed 
to me that the work should express the design of the 
workman. Doubtless, I may have deceived myself in 
some interpretations of so elevated an order, but by invit- 
ing all men to the same studies, I have, if I may so say, 
corrected all my faults beforehand. Convinced of my own 
weakness, what more could I do? I appeal from my book 
to the book of nature ; from these feeble pages, to the bar 
of time and humanity. 

Two things have strongly pre-occupied me while writing 
this book. 

1. The necessity of giving to moral truths, a mathe- 
matical origin, an immutable basis. 

2. The discovery of the universal agent which should 
possess itself of these truths, and impress their image 
upon us. 

But there is no universal power here below, except that 
of women. Nature h^s given to them the superintendence 
of our childhood, and the control of our youth. As chil- 
dren we owe them our thoughts ; as young men we lavish 
our sentiments upon them ; and they preserve at a later 
period as wives, that influence which they had acquired as 
mothers and as mistresses. Thus the entire circle of our 
life rolls on beneath their influence. The mission of weak- 



RECAPITULATION. 301 

ness is to regulate strength ; the mission of love is to make 
us delight in virtue. 

This truth has been so often repeated, that it has 
become common ; and yet who thinks of making any thing 
of it ; who dreams of pouring into the soul of mothers who 
are all powerful, the principles which may regenerate their 
children? 

These principles do not lead to fortune, but to happi- 
ness ; they all address themselves to the soul. 

It is then by the study of the faculties of the soul that 
our education should begin. 

Until the present day, these faculties have been con- 
founded with those of the intelligence, which are purely ter- 
restrial ; and this confusion has been the most powerful 
weapon of the materialists ; we have now broken it in their 
hands ; separating the grain from the chaff, the intellectual 
essence from the intelligent matter; we have drawn the 
line which separates annihilation from immortality. 

What surprise and joy have we not experienced ! In 
proportion as we advanced in this labour, the most sublime 
truths have presented themselves to us, naturally and 
simply; and the separation having been effected, it was 
ascertained that the faculties of the intelligence all tended 
towards the earth, and that the soul, like a sun, radiated 
entirely towards God. 

Thus each man carries within himself, not the demon- 
stration of the existence of God, but something more 
powerful and more irresistible, five faculties which dis- 
close him. 

It is to the developement of these five faculties of the 
soul, that the education of the mother should tend; the 
rest belongs to ordinary education, and lies in the domain 
of the intelligence. 

The soul raises us to God ; and God, as Raymond Lebon 
has so well said, is all that can be conceived of great, he 
who can do every thing by himself. On this first truth all 
the others depend. God is, and it is because He is, that 
we are ; the proofs of his existence are not only external 
to us, but also within us. He has made his thoughts 
evident by giving them a body, and by giving us a soul. 

We have tried to decipher some lines of the great book 
which He has placed beneath the eyes of the human race, 



302 RECAPITULATION, 

and we have seen all our errors disappear before this 
divine revelation. By its means Plato purifies himself; 
and the Gospel itself, stripped of all the veils with which 
the middle ages obscured its light, has again become the 
most harmonious expression of the laws of nature. 

The two books correspond to each other in this truth, 
so simple, and yet so vast — " The unity of God" — and in 
this sentiment, so sublime and so natural — *' The love of God 
and of man." 

Unity of God, that is to say, one only God, the Father 
of all men ; and consequently brethren upon the whole 
earth. 

The equality of rights, the liberty of all, the abolition of 
castes, of slavery, of war, of the penalty of death, emanate 
from the confraternity of the human race. 

The love of God and of man. Here religion assumes a 
moral character by uniting God to man, like the father to 
the child ; and morality assumes a religious character by 
uniting man to God, like the child to the father. 

In proportion as the soul becomes impressed with these 
divine sentiments, national hatreds become extinguished, 
prejudices disappear, civilization extends itself; the uni- 
versal people is constituted, and the reign of God advances 
from the west to the east. 

The reign of God is the unity of the human race ; it is 
the happiness of humanity in virtue. 

The universe will arrive at it by the study of the laws 
of nature, and by their comparison with human laws. 
These pious studies would give to our children the con- 
tinual presence of God ; a sublime control, which would 
lead them to the discovery of physical and moral truths, 
since truth is but the evidence which nature gives of its 
author. 

And in order to accomplish this prodigious revolution, to 
change the destinies of the world, to reunite families, to 
link nations closer together, to renew all legislations, what 
is required ? an entire generation must arise with the intel- 
ligence of these truths ; a great people must receive them 
in its cradle. 

Oh, women ! could you but have a glimpse of some of 
the wonders promised to maternal influence, with what a 
noble pride would you enter upon this career, which nature 



RECAPITULATION. 303 

has generously opened to you during so many ages ! That 
which is not in the power of any monarch, of any nation, 
it is sufficient that you should will it in order to execute 
it. You only upon earth dispose of the generation which 
is just born, and you alone can reunite its scattered mem- 
bers, and impart to them the same impulse. That which I 
could only write upon this insensible paper, you can en- 
grave on the heart of a whole people. Ah ! when I see in 
our promenades and public gardens, this boisterous crowd 
of little children who are playing around, my heart beats 
with joy from thinking that they still belong to you. Let 
each of you labour only for the happiness of your child ; in 
each individual happiness, God has placed the promise of 
the general happiness. Young girls, young wives, young 
mothers, you hold the sceptre ; in your souls much more 
than in the laws of legislators, now repose the futurity of 
Europe, the world, and the destinies of the human race. 



THE END. 



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